


What Comes After

by BRNZ



Series: Rise From The Ashes [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: An Ineffable Wedding, Angel/Demon Relationship, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), BDSM implied, Big Gay Love Story, Character Development, Crowley Is A Pine Tree In Sunglasses, Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Happily Ever After, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Cats, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Relationship Advice, Relationship Discussions, Smut, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), The Rest of Their Lives, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Timeline What Timeline, What happens after the End of the Beginning, a cottage by the sea, im a sucker for fluff tbh, seemed like a good idea at the time, the story continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-09-27 02:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BRNZ/pseuds/BRNZ
Summary: This is a direct continuation from Going Down In Flames Part 3 of Rise From The Ashes series- much of this is standalone but some bits may not make much sense if you haven't read that.What comes after the end of the story?  When our characters go on to live their lives, having conquered their trials and challenges?  Why don't we get to hear the rest of the story?"And they lived Happily Ever After"What does that even mean?  Especially when you are an angel and a demon who will live forever?What will life be like for our Ineffable Husbands as they make their home permanently within humanity.  How will that change them further?  And what will Heaven and Hell do about it?





	1. In the End There Was a Beginning

_ **Exactly One Year Later to the Day that GMT (God Married Them) 21st October** _

Our stories usually begin with “Once Upon A Time” and this makes sense to us. We can frame a time and a place for our story to exist in. Even an ephemeral, or, dare I say it, ineffable story can exist in a timeless space.

We share the story, the adventures, the experience and is so often the case, that we are telling the story to children, we finish it up with a trite, open ended phrase.

“And they lived Happily Ever After”

What does that even mean?

Why do we stop the story there? Why do we ALWAYS stop the story there, when theoretically all the happy times are ahead of our characters? Why do we not go on to tell all the other happy stories?

**********************************************************

“And they lived Happily Ever After”

When you have lived for 6000 years and are likely to live, quite literally, forever, how do you quantify such a statement?

It might start in Paris, over crepes.  
  
At the Ritz sharing a chocolate mousse

In Japan over the freshest sushi

Or it could be here, standing, rather ironically, in the gardens of an old satanic convent, hair elaborately plaited halfway down his back, dressed in a charcoal grey Armani suit cut sharp enough to polish a diamond, anxiously fiddling with his cufflinks.  
  
The gardens are a riot of colour ( he made sure of that) and there is a happy buzz from the guests seated expectantly.  
  
_He is surprised at how many there are and saddened at how few. They must build more connections in this human world they are now responsible for._  
  
A hand on his shoulder startles him around, Newt smiles in wry appreciation “Are you more worried about them being late, or the fact someone else is driving the Bentley?”

_Newt and Anathema had been such a source of strength and support for both of them. Newt was a steady, kind and incredibly grounded guy, remarkably difficult to throw off balance. _

Crowley quirks half a grin at his friend, taking the hit, but a familiar rumble had him at attention. Anathema was Best Woman for Aziraphale, and had insisted on driving him in the Bentley. Crowley had been prepared to go down fighting, but the Bentley….approved.  
  
He fussed about it endlessly, his two most precious family members in the hands of a bloody American who learned to drive on the wrong side of the road…  
  
Anathema, clad in her trademark green, strode forward, bouquet of cream roses trailing gold and scarlet ribbons held in front of her, lips twitching as she struggled to keep her smile to demure satisfaction.  
  
The planning and execution of this wedding had been hers, with a lot of interference from both the nervous husbands. She deserved to smile, and he nodded silent communication at her. They knew each other well enough by now, she nodded back “Mission Accomplished” and as the strains of an ancient wedding tribute stilled the chattering audience, Aziraphale made his appearance.  
  
Clad in a pale grey Armani suit, he wore a crown of flowers, a gauzy veil covering him down past his shoulders. It didn’t matter, his face was so radiant with joy, it nearly outshone the sun.  
  
Crowley took off his sunglasses, handing them to Newt behind him, and the joy blazing hotly from his topaz eyes matched that of the angel. Anathema hooked her arm into the angels, and slowly, they walked in time to the stately music.  
  
They had chosen to blend certain elements of very ancient civilisations with a modern day civil ceremony, much to the bemusement of the wedding celebrant, who was being paid *very* well to do whatever her client wanted, and keep her mouth firmly shut about anything they wanted it kept shut about. One firm glance from the startling yellow eyes of the dangerous one had convinced her discretion was indeed the best course of action.  
  
Plus, she was utterly astounded at just how much these two loved each other. It was so intense, it overflowed, touching everyone who came in contact with them. If she had to put a word to it, she would have said unequivocally, it felt ….. _holy._

She was not wrong.  
  
Anathema handed the radiant angel up to his position next to Crowley, who reached out snagging one angelic hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the plump knuckles. There was a dark promise in those exotic eyes and the celebrant trembled, blushing before murmuring “Gentlemen, your attention please” _She was an old hand at this, but oh, these two made her rethink very many choices in her life_

“Welcome, everyone, to this earthly joining of Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale Fell. Blessed they have been in the eyes of God, they choose to further bond themselves in the presence of friends and family. This is a personal and legal contract enacted in the presence of two witnesses. If anyone present is aware of any legal reason why Crowley and Aziraphale may not declare their partnership today, speak now or forever hold your peace”. Silence reigned a long moment, it was only slightly tense and expectant.

She stepped back, so they could offer up their vows  
  
Crowley reached a hand back for the ring that Newt placed carefully in his hand  
  
The demons voice was husky and low “Angel, Aziraphale, everything I have, everything that I am is yours, always has been and always will be. Yours forever” and he slid the redstoned black ring back onto the finger he had taken it off that very morning  
  
Madam Tracy sniffled into her handkerchief, and Shadwell awkwardly patted her on one shoulder, his eyes suspiciously bright.  
  
Aziraphale retrieved a familiar silver blue ring from his waistcoat pocket, with eyes glistening behind the veil he murmured “Crowley, you wily old serpent, you finally caught me.”  
  
Louder he said, in a voice rich with joy “Crowley, everything I have, everything that I am is yours, always has been and always will be. Yours forever” and he slid the sparkling bluestoned silvergilt ring onto the waiting hand.  
  
The celebrant stepped up “ Now I ask Crowley to make his declaration”

Hands clasped with Aziraphale, Crowley states “ I Anthony J Crowley declare that I know of no legal reason why we may not register as each other’s civil partner. I acknowledge the rights and responsibilities of this contract, and I voluntarily enter into it of my own free will.”

The celebrant spoke again “And now Aziraphale will make his declaration”  
  
Hands held firmly in the demons trembling grasp Aziraphale calmly responds “I Aziraphale Fell declare that I know of no legal reason why we may not register as each other’s civil partner. I acknowledge the rights and responsibilities of this contract, and I voluntarily enter into it of my own free will.”  
  
Crowley lets go of the angels hands, his trembling the barest amount he lifts the veil carefully up and over, and they stand smiling at each other like idiots, until a gentle reminder from the celebrant that can be heard by most of the audience “ Kiss him already”

Aziraphale murmurs “oh my dearest” as Crowley leans in to kiss him like he is made of spun glass, but the angel is having none of it, reaching one hand up to draw the carefully plaited red head down, for a thorough kissing.  
  
Cheers and claps and whistles erupt from the audience, along with excited yaps from Dog, and they part, eyes bright, and smiling.  
  
_Dear god the love these two have, its amazing_  
  
“Please sign the civil contract” and she ushers the husbands off to the side to scrawl and elegantly calligraph their signatures. Newt and Anathema follow suit, and they reassemble in front of the celebrant.  
  
She decides to go off script “ I have been a wedding celebrant for nearly 20 years, and never have I seen a couple so deeply attached to each other” She smiles at the two men “Congratulations and Best Wishes, I hope you get your forevers”

They kiss again, and the crowd goes nuts.

**************************************************  
Standing far to the back of the garden Gabriel and Beelzebub watch unseen. They were invited to attend the ceremony provided they stayed out of the way of the human guests. It was to be ineffable proof that these two were far beyond the mandate of Heaven and Hell.  
  
Gabriel pouts, both husbands are better dressed than him, and he makes a mental note to find this Armani person. He is not used to being relegated to the sidelines, and twitches. A small hand is laid on his arm, a slight buzz to the voice of Beelzebub as they say quietly and very firmly “Don’t”

“But..” he whines  
  
“No, you will not spoil this” and as he continues to fidget the buzzing intensifies “You will *not* provoke him. You heard it just as clearly in Heaven as we did. Moreso I expect”  
  
Grinding fury as he bites off the words “They are fucking untouchable”  
  
The small hand clenches its grip, painfully, a reminder “Yezzz they are, do not forget it” they pause for a meaningful moment “We do not know what they are capable of, nor do we want to find out”

They quirk an eyebrow at him “Unless you *want* to join us in Hell?”

He lays a hand on the one still painfully gripping his arm “Well, not permanently…” and they share a glance of mutual understanding, and both sink down into the ground.  
  
_Crowley shudders with a sick feeling down his spine and glances at the now empty corner of the garden, and smiles in dark satisfaction and he feels an answering flicker from his angel. _  
  
*****************************************************  
It was an afternoon wedding given the several children in attendance, Warlock warily welcomed by the Them, more warmly by Adam and Dog.  
  
Enough food had been catered to feed a small army, the wedding cake was the angels gift to his husband, three tiers with different flavours on each tier (he cut generous slices to put aside for …..later)

It was a good day, but a long weary one buy the time they fell into the Bentley, tipsy on happiness and champagne, a box of cake slices carefully carried by the angel which Crowley lifted over onto the back seat.  
  
He cupped the face of his angel, brushing the downy cheek softly with his thumb before leaning in for a deep intense kiss. Leaning their foreheads together he said

“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine. I love you angel”

“Oh my dearest”

Another kiss, a silent promise

He started up the Bentley to the rather startling strains of We Are The Champions, and laughing, they drove off into the evening.


	2. Wings and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a plan, but he needs to do some research first. For that, he needs some help.
> 
> Turns out a priest with good taste in whisky and a filthy mouth might be just the ticket.

5 months after GMT (God Married Them)  
  
It started with the churches. Crowley began to notice them, everywhere. All the little village ones, grand cathedrals, everywhere there were people, there were churches.

Mostly he had paid attention only to avoid them……. Now he was curious.  
  
The hard part was getting time alone to ….consider his experiment. Aziraphale had gone a little bit Bridezilla over the upcoming wedding, fussing endlessly over unimportant details. That alone was driving Crowley to distraction, but he *really* needed to do this alone.  
  
“Crowley…..” Anathema sighed in patient dismay, she was beginning to regret volunteering to organise their wedding. Aziraphale’s fussing was enough to wear down anyones nerves, but Crowleys silent judgement was even more stressful. Until she yelled at him about it, snapping under the strain.  
  
He had quietly heard her out, apologised, taken her to the pub and gotten her riotously drunk, and the two of them had had a massive bitch session about the whole wedding thing. It had been the foundation for a firm friendship, strengthened when Newt had joined their mutual Binge and Bitch sessions.  
  
He sighed back at her “I know, and I’m sorry, but I need your help. Can you come up to London for the weekend?”

“Why?”

“I need….. time….for some personal stuff”

“…….”

Crowley winced at the weight of the silence on the other end “Three days, I need three days, and then we will go down to the cottage for a week. Keep him distracted down there, promise”

“Two weeks” and there was no debating that tone “And you owe me driving lessons in the Bentley, Crowley”

He twitched “Alright, bring Newt, stay at my flat as usual, I’ll drive you home and …..you can drive some of the way”

“Deal” said the witch in her crisp American accent. “We’ll come up on Thursday. I need to go shopping anyway.”

“Thanks Book Girl” but he smiled as he said it.

Feeling like he had **not gotten the better end of that deal, Crowley rung off. He did however, now have three days to experiment

*************************************************  
  
Last time he had stepped on consecrated ground, it was with anticipation of being discorporated. Instead his feet had been rather nastily burned and blistered.

He stood at the ornate iron railings surrounding the church and stared at the imposing arched doorway. He had chosen a smaller Catholic church, after Mass but early enough to avoid an audience.  


Bracing himself before stepping gingerly onto the church grounds, slowly he walked up the sweeping stairs to the open doorway, pausing for a long moment on the threshold. Nothing. Not a twinge.  
  
Closing his eyes in something that might have resembled a prayer Crowley stepped forward into the narthex. No pain in his feet at all. Breathing deeply in through his nose to calm his now racing pulse, he walked slowly further into the church, taking a seat on a pew near the back.

It was quiet, hushed, a couple of other people at the front lost in their own contemplations, he was so lost in his own that the quiet Irish tenor next to him was quite unexpected  
  
“Be Welcome In This House Of God” and yes you *could* hear all the capitals.

Crowley indolently turned his head, raising an eyebrow in his most annoying way and stared at the disconcertingly young priest who had spoken before pursing his lips, nodding once and replying “Alright.”

He resumed his contemplation of the church, but the earnest religious presence lingered and cleared his throat,

“Most people would say thankyou” the priest said with what was quite an unpriestly like snark.

Crowley, who really wasn’t in the mood for this shit, tilted his head up to the priest while lowering his glasses enough that his eyes were visible, replying in a bitter clipped tone

“Not most people”

He was expecting the usual gasping recoil, the clutching and wringing of hands, the widening of eyes as they tried to process what they were seeing. What he didn’t expect was a profoundly contrite

“My apologies Unfallen”. The priest crossed himself, nodded and turned to walk away.  
  
“What did you just call me?” Crowleys tone could have frozen the very air itself and the black clad back stiffened, paused for a long moment before turning. Unbeknowst to him, time for everyone else in the church had stopped.

“Turn around. Explain. NOW”

A pair of rather stubborn peat brown eyes met a furious pair of topaz snake eyes, and held the gaze unwavering. Hands clasped in front (much the same way his angel did) but loosely, holding, not fretting. Pulse slightly elevated but steady. Wary but not actually afraid. Crowley was impressed. He did not, however choose to blink and the moment stretched.

“Forgive my presumption, Blessed One. You surprised me and I spoke out of turn”

_Holy fucking what the hell is going on here?_

“How do you know who I am?”

An impertinent smirk wavered briefly, and the brown eyes twitched in a “who the hell else could you be” moment before being smoothed into polished politeness. Long exposure to Aziraphales capacity to waffle and dither and be endlessly polite while saying nothing of relevance forced Crowley upright, with no warning, stepping forward to invade the priests personal space. Slowly, with dark menace, he took off his glasses, folded them carefully and tucked them into his shirt pocket.  
  
Silently he stared at the priest, before letting his forked tongue flicker as he said “Sssssspeak”

“Daniel, my name is Daniel”

“Issss it now, Daniel” he paced slowly around the priest, caressing the words, dark hellish undertones leaking through for effect.

**“Nách mór an diabhal thú” **muttered Daniel under his breath and flinched at the Sssss this provoked.  
  
“Come along to my office then” brown eyes flicked sideways, assessing the demon “Will Jameson Black Barrel do?”

Crowley reassessed the situation and nodded, stepping back to give the priest his space back  
  
“Lead the way”

Daniel led him out of the church via a side door to the left, through the overgrown gardens, to a comfortable red brick bunglow, which was clearly the residence and not the vicarage office. Raising an eyebrow, Crowley turned time back on, made sure they wouldn’t be bothered by any well meaning assistants and followed the young priest into a comfortable study.

Aziraphale would have felt right at home, two walls were filled floor to ceiling with books jammed into built in bookcases, with piles of them on the floor next to the desk, and several texts scattered over the antique mahogany desktop.

Daniel cleared yet more books off one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, indicating to the demon to sit, before opening up the sideboard behind the desk, pulling out the promised whisky and two Waterford crystal tumblers.  
  
He splashed a generous couple of fingers into both, and to Crowleys surprise, walked around the front of the desk, and seated himself in the second chair, handed the demon one of the tumbler “Sláinte”

Crowley clinked his tumbler to the priests one, took and appreciative sip before replying “M’not the Devil, just a demon”

Daniel took a sturdy sip of his own, his tone was wry and bitter even under the soft Irish brogue “You’ve never been *just* anything, have you?” which was a startlingly insightful comment. Crowley sipped again, leaned back in the quite ugly but comfortable chair and rolled the amber fluid slowly in the tumbler, admiring the quality of the crystal.

“Unfallen?” his tone was kinder, but still demanding a reply. Daniel sighed, sipped and sighed again.  
  
“God spoke to me…. well everyone really. We heard what she said. What was declared” Daniel shivered in memory “There were tales about you, of course, but no one thought that…”

“That the demon was real?”

Judgemental brown eyes raked the black clad demon from head to toe and back again before biting back “That he was poncing round London looking like a goth rent boy crack whore” his eyes measuring the overall picture, he continued before Crowley could choke out a response “Admittedly quite well dressed, so you must be *very* good.”

Surprised into an honest laugh at the sheer audacity and cheek, Crowley saluted Daniel with his whisky and a “Bugger me, Sláinte then”

Again with the measuring glance, ending at the wedding ring sparkling in the morning light “You are very taken and not my type”

“Indeed” murmured Crowley, agreeing with the first one, but pretty sure the second wasn’t at all true.

“You still haven’t answered my question”

“Once Fallen, its what God described you as. Got shortened to Unfallen. We” vague handwaving indicate the general religious sects “We wondered when you would come. Where” and he shrugged “Lucky me.”

“So the church is talking about….us?”

Daniel inhaled a sip of whisky, and spluttered, putting the glass down coughing which gradually turned into laughter. At Crowleys offended expression, he calmed down to an annoyingly bright smile.

“Joking right? The actual existence of angels and demons is confirmed by God, who also married one to the other, announcing it on the celestial plane for anyone to hear. God spoke and we heard it!! The church will be talking about this for centuries”

Crowley took a large mouthful of whisky and shuddered at the burn on the way down “Shit”

He narrowed his eyes at the priest “Did you hear her speak, like directly to you?”

Daniels eyes softened in memory “Oh yes….it was like nothing else I have ever felt. Warm soft light, bells, feathers, such love”

That love filled him now, where once had been broken shattered painful ruins deep inside him, now her light and love filled him, healed him, so he replied softly, with full knowledge “Yeah I know”

It started Daniel back to the present, blushing as he realised just whose presence he was in again “Of course you do Unf…” he stopped as the demon put his hand up to halt him  
  
“Crowley”

A pause then a nod “Crowley”, another pause “Why are you here?” he asked softly “What did you want to find within a church?”

An annoyingly perceptive question, so he countered with one of his own “So you are the real deal then? Like connected Upstairs and all that?”

Those perceptive brown eyes studied him, Daniel shrugged “Apparently?”. He made it a question but Crowley could tell from the aura that had filled the priest when he remembered hearing God, that he was a genuine believer.  
  
Time to fess up then “I need some Holy Water. Churches are where you find it, usually” Crowley shrugged his own elegantly dismissive shrug.  
  
Daniel narrowed his eyes at the demon for a long moment, put his tumbler down on the cover of one of his books (Crowley, long trained by his angel, winced at the blasphemy) and sat forward intently in his chair.  
  
“You’ve been personally Blessed by God, I’m pretty sure you could make your own”

_That was a startling concept, and one he felt stupid for never considering himself_

“Can’t test if it works though, can I?”

“Depends on what you are trying to do?”

Crowley set his jaw stubbornly, but he needed this mans help “Test to see if it will destroy me”

With a quiet ahhhhh Daniel sat back in his chair “Oh I see, a crisis of faith” he looked fascinated. Crowley twitched with annoyance.  
  
“No I need proof that it was all real, because Heaven and Hell want us both dead and will try anything to achieve it.” He gritted his teeth and looked away “I need to know how to protect him”

“Ah. I see”. Had Crowley been looking, he would have seen bleak desolation briefly flicker in the peat brown eyes of the priest. An indication that he too had lost someone he loved, perhaps.  
  
“So I bless some water for you and then what?”

“I touch it and see if it burns me” was the very flat reply.  
  
“Will it kill you? Just touching it?”

Crowley shrugged again “No just leave a permanent scar. You need a reasonable amount to do the deed so to speak”. A thermos full in a plastic bucket, to be precise.

“I bless the Font every morning before Mass.” He rose from his chair “Shall we?”

Crowley rose slowly but made no move for the door “I have a condition. You can never speak of this to anyone, and you give me permission to bind you to that promise”

“Will it harm me?”

“No just make sure you can never speak of it”

“Fair enough, I have a request of my own then?”

“M’listening”

“Will you show me your wings?” asked the priest shyly

Crowley smiled down at the too innocent young priest “Afterwards. No touching”. Daniel looked slightly horrified at the sacrilege the idea offered and nodded.

Crowley held out his hand for the traditional shake “I agree to your terms. Do you agree to mine?”

Daniel shook saying “Yes, I agree”. As their hands parted, a spark of static electricity jumped from Crowleys fingertips to the priests, who swore, shaking the sting out of them.

Crowley shrugged “Sorry” and Daniel laughed “Not sorry at all, are you. Come on then, lets go do your experiment”.

_It didn’t burn him at all. He made the priest bless the water once, twice and a third time to test. He opened his senses and could feel the holiness within the water, it glowed to his undersight the same faint bluewhite of Aziraphales aura._  
  
Admitting defeat (or was it success?) he turned to Daniel, stepped clear of anything potentially fragile and asked “Ready?” and at the priests nod turned around and let his wings out.  
  
“Holy Mary Mother of God, Saints Preserve Us” he heard the thunk of knees hitting hardwood floors, flexed the wings in and turned around, letting them relax out again.  
  
Daniels eyes were shining bright, with tears possibly, and holy fervour, he murmured “Thankyou for this blessing Unfallen”

Crowley twitched the wings back into the metaphysical plane, stepped forward and offered Daniel a hand up. He dusted himself off, regaining his composure a bit, opened his mouth to speak and choked as nothing came out. Tried again until Crowley put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“You can’t speak about this to anyone, including me I’m afraid. That was the deal, remember?”

Swallowing, Daniel nodded “Will you come back? You must have the most amazing stories” He blushed “I would love to hear them”

“Aziraphale has the best stories. He could tell you all about Jesus, Noah, Eve. He guarded Eden personally” Crowley smiled as Daniel blinked several times, and went a very pale colour as he processed what that actually meant.  
  
“A good chunky Bordeaux will keep him chatting for hours, and snacks, lots of snacks”

“Snacks” replied the dazed priest.

“Numbers on your phone, we are out of town for a couple of weeks, but text me and I will bring him to visit”

Crowley started walking down the nave, Daniel following slowly alongside, and he stood in the morning sunlight as Crowley made his way to the street. Time turned back on for the second time that morning for the church inhabitants.  
  
The quiet Irish voice spoke just before he was out of range to hear it “Why did you trust me?”

Crowley turned, tilted his sunglasses down so his eyes were visible “You heard Her, I could see it”

Daniel nodded in agreement or acceptance but Crowley wasn’t finished “Plus you called me a goth rent boy crack whore, words that should *never* come out of any priests mouth. You are going to fucking break Aziraphale and I get to watch”

Evil smirk firmly in place, he slid the glasses up and sauntered out to the Bentley waiting on the street.  
  
_Daniel dreamed about wings. _

_Wings and Fire._  
  



	3. Tango Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll asked for more Daniel so here you go, and there will be one more chapter featuring him to round out this particular story snippet.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Roughly 4 weeks after the Church Incident_

Heads turned as the throaty roar of a cherry red Ducati 848 Evo wended its way through Soho traffic. Parking on a sunny Thursday afternoon would have been a challenge, but Crowley had given him permission and the security access code to the service alley in the back of the building.

Zipping his leather jacket open in the afternoon heat, helmet the same cherry red as the bike swinging on one hand, he ruffled his curls loose, Daniel followed the sound of tango music. Surprisingly it poured out of the open door of his destination, A Z Fell bookshop, and he stood for a moment on the steps, drinking in the sight of Crowley and presumably, his husband the angel, laughing as they danced their way across the cleared floor, but in the turn tangled their legs together nearly tripping each other up.

Huffing with laughter the angel (who glowed ever so slightly to Daniels sight) put his hands up, fending Crowley off, stepping back   
  
“Enough, enough my love. You are a wonderful dancer and a patient teacher but I’m doing it all wrong.”

Crowley ran a hand through his messily disarrayed hair, clearly not for the first time “Can’t be any harder than the gavotte surely, angel? Just need to practice more”

They both startled at Daniels cool irish tenor as he stepped into the shade of the shop  
  
“Your husband is right, actually.”

“Daniel!” Crowley winced and checked his outrageously expensive watch “Damn, angel, time for a break”

Aziraphale stepped forward with a smile “Welcome Daniel, Crowley has told me so much about you. May I take your jacket?”

Even though it was cooler in the shop than it should have been, Daniel slipped off his heavy bike jacket, handing it and his helmet to the waiting angel who bustled off. Crowley had disappeared into the back, came out with a bottle of champagne, dewy with condensation, with three glasses. He raised an eyebrow at the priest who nodded, glasses were filled and handed out.

Crowley drained one glass and poured another before commenting, with a speaking glance at Aziraphale

“Which husband is right, and about what, exactly?”

_When they looked at each other like that, with that fond familiar smile, they both glowed_

Daniel took a measuring sip of champagne, he didn’t know what it was, but knew it was the good stuff. Not the kind usually drunk on a random Thursday afternoon, in his world anyway. He put the glass down on a coaster on the desk nearby and held up one finger

“One, your music is too fast” he raised a second finger “Two, Aziraphale should be leading”and he added a third finger “You are using a waltz frame to dance to an Argentinian tango, its too stiff and confining for you both.” He shrugged and reached for his glass.

They shared another speaking glance and the angel said in a melodic and amused voice “A priest who drinks whisky, consorts with demons, rides a motorbike and knows how to tango?”

Daniel smiled “Waltz, Foxtrot, Rumba, Samba, Salsa. I also speak three languages fluently, have a Degree in Religious History and play guitar very badly. Would you like to check my teeth and put me through my paces?”

They shared another of those long glances before Crowley drawled “No to the first, but I think yes to the second. Will you show us where we are going wrong?” he blushed rather unexpectedly “We are getting married in a few months” at Daniels look of confusion “Yes I know, but its for our friends on Earth”

“And legal reasons” murmured the angel  
  
“Yes that too” The demon shrugged “We wanted to dance at our reception….” He trailed off  
  
“Why didn’t you get proper lessons?” Daniel asked and Crowleys face shut down in anger  
  
“Couldn’t find anywhere that would teach two men to dance together”

Daniel sighed “Yes, I see your problem”. He pulled his phone out, opened up a music app, and the strains of Oh These Dark Eyes, Tango No9 by Radio Valencia filled the shop (Crowley subtly amplified and boosted the sound quality)

He stepped towards the angel, flicked his eyes to Crowley with a questioning look, received a tiny nod of approval, and held his hand out “May I have this dance?”

The smile the angel bestowed on him was blinding “Of course my dear” took his hand and was led out to the middle of the floor.

Daniel stood and looked at the angel for a long moment, clearly wanting to say something  
  
“Speak dear boy, you won’t offend me” smiling blue eyes looked into his

Closing his eyes, and whispering a prayer the priest said “You have too many clothes on, you need to be relaxed, able to move freely, not ..” and he waved a hand  
  
“Not trussed up like a Christmas turkey” snarked the demon, clearly amused  
  
Daniel opened his eyes in relief “Yes, exactly”

Aziraphale pouted “But….” his hands fussing the smart houndstooth waistcoat he was improbably wearing in the heat

“Angel…..” the demons tone had a bite to it and the angel deflated and began unbuttoning the waistcoat

“Anything else?” he asked as he handed it off to Crowley to carefully hang up  
  
“Take off the bow tie, loosen your collar and roll your sleeves up too” Daniel wanted to ask him to untuck the rather fine linen shirt as well, but the already mulish expression on the angels face told him not to push further. He did notice Crowley smirking with satisfaction, and suspected this was not the first time this conversation had been had.  
  
Once the angel was appropriately rumpled, Daniel stepped up with a lead waltz frame and the angel walked willingly into his embrace. Clearly he knew how to dance this particular style.  
  
“Obviously you both know how to waltz, but the argentinian tango is a different frame.” He stepped forward til they were face to face, close enough to kiss, leaning slightly forward.  
  
“You dance much closer, leaning forward towards each other, sometimes resting your heads together. Spine very straight, but not stiff, leaning just far enough forward to be engaged” As the angel leaned forward, he adjusted the hold slightly so that one shoulder was touching the angels  
  
Aziraphale murmured “You are nearly as tall as Crowley my dear” and snuggled in under his chin like he fitted.

“Ready?”

“Yes dear boy, lead on”

And with a slow step back Daniel lead the angel through the beats of the music, first slowly as they got used to each other. On the second pass through, Daniel sped it up, putting some quicker footwork in the faster section, on the third pass through, the angel was beginning to experiment with some taps and drags, blue eyes shining brightly.

As they ended the third pass, Daniel disengaged and reframed “Now you lead”. The height differential made it a little awkward until he murmured “Close your eyes, relax, listen to the music” and to his relief, the angel did just that, and they swung slowly but smoothly into the motions of the dance.

Aziraphale halted after two passes of the music, beaming delightedly  
  
“Oh that was delightful, dear boy, thankyou” Daniel headed gratefully for his glass of champagne, which he drained and was refilled by a thoughtful Crowley, while the angel sipped delicately at his own champagne  
  
“Typical angel, always wanting to be in control” but the demons tone was fond amusement as he leaned against the end of a bookcase.  
  
The angel looked flustered, but the heat in the glance that they shared was scorching, and Daniel felt himself blushing, buried his nose in the champagne flute.

Crowley continued “It appears our resident expert was right though, you looked much happier leading” he glanced at Daniel, raising an eyebrow “My turn?”

Daniel swallowed, turned away to put his glass down again, and startled to be presented with Crowley, long hair now plaited back, wearing a gorgeous low cut back, long sleeved red satin dress with matching dance heels. He also filled the dress out in all the right places.

Aziraphale sighed audibly “Oh my love, you are just the prettiest picture”, and the acceptance and love in his voice steadied the surprised priest, who answered the challenge in the demons eyes, stepping forward and bowing  
  
“May I have this dance?”

Crowley stepped forward into his arms daintily, they were nearly of a height, even with the heels that elevated the demon a couple of inches. Daniel talked him through the differences in the frame, and slowly eased them into the music.  
  
Halfway through he almost stopped in surprise, because Crowley *could* dance, clearly knew his/her/their way through a tango, and was a light responsive follow. On the second pass through the music, Daniel closed his eyes and just relaxed into the music, trusting his partner to follow and on the third pass they almost reached that nirvana of connection between dancers and music that is the reason why dancers go back again and again and again.  
  
He stepped back, one demonic hand held in his, and bowed a kiss over narrow elegant fingers and breathed “Is minic cuma aingeal ar an Diabhal féin.”

Crowley gave a squeeze before disentangling their hands, shot him a pointed glance before replying “Not the Devil, just a demon” and they shared a smirk in memory of the last time he said that.

Aziraphales richly amused voice broke them apart “Oh my dear, I see exactly what you mean, he really is the naughtiest boy indeed”

Daniel did completely blush at the utterly filthy implications that the angel managed to wrap into the last three words of that sentence, and even Crowley choked a bit before reaching an arm out to snug his husband in tight for a one armed hug, and a kiss to the blonde curls  
  
“Careful angel, you might break him”

Blue eyes twinkled at the priest merrily “What a delightful idea my love” and then he shook his head in mock sadness “But unkind to treat our new friend so shabbily when he has been so generous to us” he looked up at Crowley, and they had one of their silent conversations held only with expressions and minute eyebrow twitches.  
  
Crowley sighed in obvious acquiescence “Did you have plans for dinner? We would like to say thankyou for the help”

Daniel looked down at himself, dress jeans, blue grey Henley and black leather boots were ideal for a casual afternoon visit “Im not really dressed for anywhere fancy” but the angel went

“Pffft, you are just fine as you are. Just a nice dinner at a local club, its Soho my dear. Everything goes”

“Alright then, but first, you two need to dance together, and we are going to practise til you can both dance with your eyes closed”

_Under the priests guidance they did eventually, slowly, carefully dance their way through the song with eyes closed, happiness humming between the two of them with tangible energy. Their joy filled him with delight, while also leaving some parts of him hollow and empty._  
  
***********************************************  


The husbands excused themselves to freshen up before dinner, which was code for Aziraphale to frown at the demon as they washed up in the ensuite upstairs.  
  
“Crowley…” he said meaningfully

“I know angel, I know”

“That he is half in love with you?”

Running his hands through his hair, pulling the loose plait apart, the demon slumped over, elbows on knees, perched on the end of their bed and sighed. He hadn’t told the angel about the whole Holy Water thing yet, and really didn’t want to do it now, and spoil what had been a delightful day.  
  
“Yeah that’s why he got the dress and the” he waved a hand in a vaguely curving shape, the other one rubbing circles in his scalp

A tan clad thigh propped up his forehead and two angelic hands slowly threaded their way through his hair and massaged his scalp in slow luxurious strokes “Let me, my love”

“Mmmmmm” he leaned in and made to nuzzle his way up an angelic thigh and whined when the angel stepped away with a firm “Later dearest, we have a dinner guest and it would be very rude to keep him waiting”

Crowley stood, stretched and made eyes at his angel “I can stop time, remember?” his eyes drifted over his rather dishevelled looking angel “You look delicious like that, you should unbutton more often”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes in a way that Crowley had learned to be wary of and with a click his angel was now dressed in loose white linen pants, cut 1940s gangster style, a pale blue tshirt with a deep v neck, a gorgeous linen silk blend shirt draped loose and open, sleeves rolled up. White boat shoes and a heavy gold chain bracelet mounted with wings completed the outfit, and the angel raised an eyebrow at him in challenge.  
  
Crowley grinned “Oh its ON” his black jeans changing to even tighter ass clinging leather, a shimmery black long sleeve mesh top, hair now tumbling in artful curls, heavy black eyeliner and crimson lipstick completing the look. A silver serpentine necklace wrapped itself twice around his throat and trailed dangling underneath the high neckline of the mesh top.

Aziraphales eyes widened, he licked his lips and unconsciously made grabby hands. Crowley reached out one black tipped finger, tracing the full bottom lip as the angel swayed towards him, blue eyes darkening with want

“Ah Ah Ahhhh Later angel” the demon crooned as he stepped out of range “Dinner, guest? Remember?”

The angel snapped back to himself with a twitch and a blush of embarrassment, and pouted “You tempted me” as he followed his husband across the flat and down the stairs

“You started it, you insatiable tart” flung Crowley over his shoulder on the way down the stairs, and the angel smiled, giving the demons delicious bum a pert squeeze as they walked across the bookstore

“Hey!”

“Well..” said the angel in a suspiciously reasonable tone “You look like a tart”

Choked laughter from their forgotten guest bought their attention back, as his eyes darted between the two of them

“You do realise that *you* look like his pimp?” Daniel said to the angel, who looked at his outfit and blushed quite becomingly, while Crowley cracked up laughing.

When the demon got his breath back he huffed out rather cryptically “I get to watch”, cackling demonically he lifted his black leather jacket casually over one shoulder, tossed Daniels to him and ushered the still blushing angel out into the street


	4. Hope and Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Daniel for you all, this is the end of this particular story segment. Crowley gets to say thankyou and Daniel gets to new opportunities to tango...

They wandered the Soho streets seemingly at random, until they turned down what looked like a rather dingy alleyway, a stuttering security light mounted above a solid steel plated security door. Crowley swaggered up to the door, pulled a card out of …somewhere, swiped and held the door open to a brightly lit corridor with another steel security door at the end  
  
Aziraphale paraded through, Daniel, thoroughly confused followed warily, paused as the demon flicked the sleek black card in his direction

“Welcome to Second Circle…..Priest”

Daniel glanced at the card, embossed with a crimson logo, it had his name and Lifetime Member on it. With a nod he slid it into a pocket, asking “Second Circle of Hell I'm guessing? What is this place?”

The demon pulled the door shut, ensuring the locks engaged

“Its our club, fine wine, good food, private places to chat, extremely exclusive and very discreet”

“You say ‘our’ with a distinct note of possession?”

“Yeah, well I’m the owner” he shrugged, reaching for the second door “Aziraphale rules with an iron fist in a velvet glove, it’s a very safe space” He took his sunglasses off sliding them on the inside pocket of his jacket, and those topaz eyes glittered at him.

“House rules?”

Crowley gave him an approving nod “Consent and boundaries rule, no drugs or other substances, no recording devices, and your phone won’t work at all once we go through this door. Play nice, be respectful, or suffer the consequences”

“You, of course, being the consequences?” and the demon blinked very slowly and deliberately at him in answer before pulling open the second door. Neon lights and throbbing dance music drew Daniel forward in wonder.  
  
A decent sized dancefloor, ringed with the usual round cocktail tables and chairs, beyond them, a raised up dais filled with booths, a raised DJ platform, with the wall behind them playing music videos. Neons and strobes lit the party, a small crowd of dancers grinding on the floor, other patrons scattered around the tables.  
  
Crowley led him through the crowd, waving away greetings, a long neon lit bar was packed with patrons whooping as a bartender did something fancy behind the bar. Mirrors shimmered behind the backlit bottle laden shelves, and the vibe felt ……good….energetic.

He didn’t notice the interested murmurings that filtered through the crowd in their wake. Crowley walked on, people sliding out of his way as they stepped up to the biggest booth on the dais, where Aziraphale was……for want of a better description….holding court.  
  
It was oddly quieter here, so Daniel could hear the angel talking to the flock of eager young men, praising their fashion sense, but all heads turned when he said “Crowley!”

The flock scattered in deference to the demon, who slid into the left side of the booth, planting a welcome kiss “Angel” and motioned Daniel into the other side.  
  
Champagne was already poured into three glasses, which were raised and clinked together with a Sláinte. Aziraphale handed him a menu, commenting gleefully

“Choose whatever you like dearest boy, or the chef can rustle you up something special if you prefer?”

There were no prices, and Daniel hesitated, and the angel reached out a hand, saying quietly “No need dear, all taken care of. Just present your card for any services you might require.” Daniel glanced at the demon who nodded “Everything’s on the house, with my thanks”

For the thing that could never be spoken of, Daniel suddenly understood, he smiled and asked “How is the chef with a steak?” and the angel began singing the praises of the kitchen. Crowley rolled his eyes and got up to attend to someone hovering nearby.

******************************************

The steak was in fact delicious, Daniel ate quickly and neatly, watching the husbands feed each other morsels, discussing the merits of their respective dishes. They were taking their time, so Daniel watched the crowd. While quite a few women were present, it was almost all men. 

It was a huge space, a converted warehouse or something, obviously well soundproofed as he hadn’t heard a thing from the street. An intriguing tall arched doorway in the back wall at the end of the bar was shrouded behind crimson velvet curtains, with smaller one on the wall beside the dancefloor. The sign above the smaller one said “Play Rooms”

This must have cost a small fortune, just for the building alone in the middle of Soho, Daniel eyed the demon thoughtfully and drained his flute. When an ever attentive waiter went to refill it, he put his hand over the glass “No thanks, I have to drive”

Crowley slanted a gaze at him over his fork “There are rooms here for members, you can stay if you like. Full service, very discreet”

Daniel choked a bit internally at the connotations of ‘full service’ but took his hand away, nodding at the waiter. He could learn to enjoy the taste of bubbles.

They lingered into the evening, chatting, getting to know each other. Aziraphale daintily picked his way through two desserts, including half of Crowleys. Daniel slowly relaxed and let himself enjoy the evening. Aziraphale was clearly an ice cold bastard with a heart of gold, but his kindness overwhelmed the priests religious crisis, Crowley was an utterly soft bitch who revelled in it, and somehow they ….worked. 

Replete, relaxed, he sat back against the comfortable cushions, listening to the conversation with half an ear while people watching. He hadn’t taken time to do this kind of self care for far too long, he realised. Fingering the sleek black card in his pocket, aware that he could come back, something that had been strung too tight within him slowly began to loosen.

His attention caught as familiar latin rhythms sounded, the dance floor filling up with couples, dancing with various levels of skill at the salsa. Men laughing, dancing with other men, openly with joy and freedom was a sight he never expected, a gift he could never have anticipated. 

He was afraid to hope, his heart had been so badly broken once already, being a gay Catholic priest meant being very closeted for so many reasons. It hurt, the wanting for something you had lost, might never have again.

“Too much champagne” thought Daniel as his fingers tapped in time to the music. He knew this particular song well. He hadn’t noticed Crowley sliding from the booth until a black tipped hand reached out in invitation

“Care to come make a spectacle of yourself?” invited the demon

“Tango?” he asked lazily, hazed enough from the champagne to be amused by the challenge

The demon turned his hand over and curled his fingers in invitation “Bring your A game, and I will lead”

Sitting up now Daniel murmured “No holds barred?” and the demon purred back “None”

“Do you know Gotan Project?” he asked reaching out to take the proffered hand, sliding from the booth and Crowley replied “Santa María del Buen Ayre”

“Lead on then”

By the time they reached the floor the song playing was finished. Silence descended as the tall red head lead Daniel into the center of the floor, with a murmur the crowd fell back, giving them room to dance.

Hot topaz eyes stared down into his “Ready?” and Daniel breathed back “Bring it”. They stared at each other then with a click the music started, Crowley began to stalk around him in a circle through the opening movements of the music.  
  
Daniel danced his opening moves in place, waiting for the touch he knew would come, the firm grip sliding up his nape possessively, down again, trailing down to his hip, spinning him round til he was hip to hip with the demon, who reached out elegantly for his right hand, splaying black tipped fingers across his back.  
  
The room held its breath for a moment, the power coiled between them building, until with a twitch they both exploded into action. It was powerful, sensual and dynamic, Crowley was very good, but not as polished as Daniel, but he could _move_ and the unbridled lust he embodied more than made up for it. They danced in perfect harmony with each other and the music, the age old give and take of the tango playing out across the dancefloor.  
  
They held their final pose as the music faded and the room burst into screams of approval and applause. Crowley spun Daniel around showily a couple of times and they both took a bow, Crowley yelling to the crowd “Our newest member, Daniel, meet everyone” Whoops and whistles and cheers greeted this, and Crowley led him off the dancefloor to the bar in search of a cold drink.

The demon leaned in to murmur in Daniels ear “Sometimes you have to fall before you can rise, it took us 6000 years to learn that. God believes in you, I can feel it. Allow yourself a little hope and have a little faith. Enjoy the rest of your evening” with a chaste kiss to one cheek and a “Bless You” the scarlet haired demon swept off into the crowd.  
  
A little stunned, a lot drunk, high on the endorphins from the dance, Daniel wended his way through the crowd, nodding at greetings and pats on the back, til he hit the end of the bar, thankfully clear of people, and a couple of stools left unoccupied.  
  
Pulling himself onto one, he asked for a large iced water, shuddering as he sculled down half of it and the cold hit his system.  
  
A quiet European voice asked politely “May I join you?”

He turned to see a tall slender dark eyed man, late 20s, sharply dressed with a mass of dark curls flopping across his forehead. The stranger held out his hand in introduction “Lukas”

Clasping for a firm shake he replied “Daniel” and indicated the available seat next to him, and Lukas slid neatly onto the stool, waving to catch the attention of the bartender.  
  
He eyed Daniels water and asked “Just water or can I tempt you to something else?”

With a sigh Daniel closed his eyes “Oh I’ve been tempted enough already, but Guinness if they have any”  
  
Lukas gave his orders to the bartender, and reached for his pocket. Daniel put his hand up “I’ll get this” and fished his black card out of his pocket. He was surprised when the bartender looked surprised and waved it away with a hurried “apologies sir, didn’t realise”.  
  
Puzzled he went to put it away when Lukas reached out “May I?” and carefully took the card from his hand, turned over reverently and handed it back “Everyone thought these were just a rumour”.

“What was a rumour” he asked, confused.  
  
Lukas blinked at him “You really are new aren’t you?”  
  
“First time” he shrugged “Crowley and Aziraphale offered to take me out for dinner and here I am”  
  
Lukas blinked again “Wow, OK, just Wow. So the Black Cards give you access to absolutely everything the club has to offer, private rooms, spa, gym, dining room. The only other person who has one is Crowley, as far as I know”

“And he’s the owner….”

“Yeah”

Daniel glanced down the bar, if the barman was doing a proper Guinness pour, they would be waiting a while   
  
“OK, better tell this newbie everything he needs to know”

Lukas pulled his stool up to the bar, settled his elbows and began to talk “Well…..”

****************************************  
Eventually the music volume amped up, too loud to have a decent conversation. Daniel leaned forward to yell quietly at Lukas “Anywhere quieter than here?”

Lukas nodded, slipped off his stool, Lukas led them to the large arched doorway Daniel had seen during dinner, behind the crimson velvet curtains were a pair of solid wooden doors secured with another security access point. Daniel waved his card in front of it and the door clicked open.  
  
Blissful quiet greeted them, the faint classical music a tasteful background accent to the lavishly appointed dining room they walked into. It was a reasonable sized room, but felt intimate and private, almost every table was matched with a curved sofa designed to fit 2 or 3 people. A few single chairs were scattered around.

Eyebrows raised, Daniel wondered where to sit when they were approached by a waiter dressed as formally as if they were at the Ritz, who quietly ushered them to a corner table at the far end of the room, where yet another bottle of champagne was cooling on ice.  
  
They were seated, bubbles poured with a hushed “Compliments of the house”. Lukas sipped his, eyes closed in appreciation “I could get used to this” he said with a smile and Daniel nodded

“Yeah, nice to see how the other half live” and he shrugged at the enquiring look from the other man “This is, how do you say it ‘way above my touch’?”

Lukas smiled “How very Regency novel of you” but there was no bite to it, and he clearly understood the reference himself “So, what do you do then?”

Daniel sighed, they had had the usual introduction conversation, Lukas was a scientist who did things with genetics working on a project in the city for a couple of years. Daniel danced around the subject as he normally preferred to, but he was enjoying the other mans company. This was usually the make or break moment, so he decided to …..have a little faith.  
  
Deep breath “I’m a priest….Catholic” he said quietly, not looking at Lukas and paused, waiting, fingers anxiously spinning the stem of his wineglass around and around. He started as slender fingers covered his, stilling their nervous movement by tangling themselves in his as Lukas said “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”

Distracted by the fingers entwined in his, Daniel took a moment to process hearing that, flicking a startled look at the other man who smiled at him “Catholic, but not a priest”. Still uncertain he looked down at their linked hands, then slanted a glance at Lukas “It doesn’t bother you?”

Lukas shifted to face him, folding one leg under him so that it was pressed the length of Daniels thigh, his thumb caressing the priests palm in highly distracting circles “What should I be bothered by exactly? That you are Catholic? A priest? Gay? All of the above?”

Daniel swallowed at the tone of lighthearted careless enquiry, dismissing his concerns as nonsense and shook his head in denial “But..”

Lukas shifted closer, reached out with his free hand, brushing a thumb across Daniels lips, stilling the words “Just be here, now, with me. Can you do that? Will you do that?”

Eyes closed to savour the soft brush against his lips, Daniel nodded, breathing “Yes” and when the back of his head was cradled, he turned his face into the kiss, soft, questing, promising heat and much more if he asked for it. _Oh how he wanted to ask   
_

Lukas murmured “Alright?” against his lips, and he answered by pulling the other man into his lap, tangling one hand in the soft dark curls, pulling that tempting mouth down to his “Show me how. How you want me, want this?”

Dark exotic eyes smiled down into deep peat brown ones “Well you are a man of faith, but I’m a man of science, and we are all about …..experimentation…?”

Despite the lust and the alcohol fogging his brain, Daniel had a clear memory of Crowley telling him something important “Rooms, they have rooms here...”

“And you have the card with magic access” Lukas spilled off his lap and pulled Daniel to his feet, hands clasped they kissed again, deeper with more urgency until a polite “Gentlemen” broke them apart.  
  
The very polite waiter led them to a door in the far corner of the room, gestured for Daniel to swipe his card, opened it and waved them through “Room Number One is prepared for you, all the way down the end”

Giggling at their slightly drunken state, they wandered the long hallway, hands clasped until they reached the door labelled Private Suite ONE. Daniel swiped his card again, put a hand on the handle, turned it and opened the door slightly, holding it he turned to Lukas, dark eyed, mussed, lips kiss bruised and asked “Yes?”

Lukas pushed them forward through the door, and as it closed behind them, pushed Daniel up against it, pinning him full length against it, and murmured into the column of his throat “I saw you on the dancefloor, and I really hope you can fuck as well as you dance. God YES!”

Neither of them said very much at all after that.

*************************************************  
Aziraphale turned to Crowley as they sat cuddled up against each other in the booth, enjoying a brandy “My dear, do you feel that?”

Crowley pulled his brain out of its pleasant haze “Mmm?”

The angel reached out a hand “Let me show you” Crowley twined his fingers with the angels, pressing a kiss to one plump knuckle before closing his eyes “Show me what?”

Their senses expanded, all the bodies in the club became dots of light, various colours depending on their state of mind or mood but it was the two diamond bright flames, newly created but distinct that the angel focused on and whispered “Love”

Crowley opened his eyes and smiled at his husband “All it takes is a little faith and some hope”


	5. An Angelic Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last Daniel chapter! Aziraphale wanted to have his chance with our favourite priest and ambushed me with this chapter idea in the shower!
> 
> This also fills in some other story elements I had not yet managed to include, around the reason for the clubs existence, what its purpose ultimately was. Plus the angel has a secret.....

** _A couple of weeks after the night at the club_ **

Daniel tidied up after his 10am sermon, the usual regulars for a Tuesday. He worked automatically at the familiar tasks, mind busy on his afternoon schedule, but mostly dwelling on the options at the local pub for lunch.

So it took a while for the angelic presence to make itself felt, the trickle of warm wellbeing flowing through him, soothing his thoughts, busy hands stilling as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and basking for a just a moment.

_I should have known this would happen _“Aziraphale” he said in polite greeting, turning to the angel sitting tidily upright on the front pew. He glowed with a radiant white glimmer.

The angel frowned at him “How did you know it was me, dear boy?”

“You …… radiate….power, quite strongly actually. And you are glowing. Rather brightly”

With a twitch, the celestial suddenly looked like a quaintly dressed bookseller, human and harmless. Looks, as Daniel well knew, could be deceptive. He folded his hands together, asking politely but firmly “How may I be of service?”

A pair of intense blue eyes studied him for a long moment before the angel replied “Actually, that is just what I wanted to discuss with you. Perhaps we can chat over lunch? My treat” and god wasn’t he utterly adorable when he smiled so brightly.

He was still wearing his vestments “Let me just get changed then” and the angel smiled “Lead the way, dear boy”

They walked in silence through the church, across the gardens, to the residence, Daniel cunningly leaving the angel to coo over the books in his office, while he got changed. Aziraphale was tutting quite audibly at the piles of books cracked open, stacked on his desk and on the floor and Daniel couldn’t restrain himself.  
  
“They are just books, inanimate objects, they don’t care how they get used”. The outraged look on the angels face was nearly as amusing at the fact he appeared to have rendered him speechless, Daniel raised a hand “You can read me the riot act over lunch. Its Tuesday, there should be cheesecake…..”

The huffy angel deflated then rallied at the sound of dessert “Well your collection is quite impressive, but it has a few gaps”

Daniel ushered the angel out the door, rolling his eyes “Yes well, not everyone has an unlimited budget for expensive collectible religious texts”  
  
********************************

They chatted about old bibles as they wandered the couple of blocks to the local pub, found a quiet booth, ordered drinks and lunch. Daniel opted for the hearty ploughmans lunch, with the angel going with the steak and kidney pie. It was a valid choice and silence reigned as they tucked into their meals.  
  
Aziraphale dabbed neatly with his napkin, clearing away flaky pastry crumbs, pushed his plate away with a murmured “Delicious”. Daniel was snacking his way through the platter, he often took the leftovers home for dinner as it was a generous helping. He spread creamy butter thickly on a slice of good sourdough bread and waited for the angel to start the real discussion.  
  
Aziraphale had wrapped them in a bubble of silence, no one would see or hear them while they were chatting, raised his glass of wine to his lips and said “He came for the Holy Water I assume”

Daniel stilled, unnaturally stiff, flicked a strained glance at the angel and said absolutely nothing. He swallowed nervously several times, his hands trembling until he noticed, dropping the knife with a clatter, folding his hands in his lap.

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at the shaken priest, pursed his lips and _looked again_. “Oh my dear boy, my apologies. I should have known. Here, let me”. With a wave of his hand the pressure and pain eased, and the priest sighed with relief.  
  
“What did you do?” he asked, taking a steadying mouthful of his Guinness.

“Oh I can’t undo the binding, but I can finesse it a bit, so it doesn’t pain you. Crowley is a bit of a blunt object at times” he smiled fondly.  
  
Daniel eased the strain out of his shoulders, sitting back “Thankyou, that was very kind”

“Least I could do” those annoyingly perceptive blue eyes measured him, and appeared not to find him wanting “Whatever it was you did….helped Crowley’s peace of mind, quite a bit. I didn’t get a chance to say thankyou”

Daniel nodded, testing the words in his mouth before saying cautiously “I was happy to be of service”. OK that was safe enough apparently “And you gave me access to the club, more than thanks I suspect”

The angel smiled “Did you enjoy yourself? The tango has been very popular since your demonstration. You are welcome back any time, you know that?”

With a sigh the priest sat forward, it had been a wonderful night and he was planning to meet Lukas again, as soon as he could get away. But too many trips into the city would be commented on, a priest doesn’t get much of a personal life, always someone keeping tabs on where he spent his time.  
  
“I have several books that would help with your research at my shop” and the priest blinked at the random subject change “Given how you treat your books, I would *have* to insist that you come and do your research under my direct supervision” and the angel looked at him meaningfully.  
  
Daniel said slowly “That’s a very kind offer” but the angel interrupted him quite rudely “It would mean frequent trips to the bookshop. In SoHo. We could correspond via email of course, but research is best done in person, I find. I’m sure your diligence in research would be appreciated by your congregation.”

He slid an elegantly embossed card across the table with his contact details on it, and continued quietly but firmly “Of course, its such a taxing journey into town, so much easier to spend the night now and then don’t you think?”

Slowly the meaning of what the angel was saying filtered into the priests brain “Are you offering me an alibi?” and the approving smile was all the answer he needed.  
  
“Oh the research will be real, dear boy. After all, now you have access to someone who was actually there when it all happened, remember?” Daniel’s eyes widened in delight at the realisation of what that meant “But yes, you deserve to love and be loved, without stupid rules and restrictions”   
  
An interesting mix of emotions flickered across the angels face “I know what its like myself, and now it delights me to help you break the rules. What do you say?”

With tears glittering in his eyes Daniel breathed “Thankyou. Yes.” Aziraphale broke their gaze to give the priest a moment to collect himself.

“He loves you more than anything. I begin to see why” said the priest unexpectedly.

The angel smiled wistfully “I know. I would do anything to keep him safe”

“Anything?”

Angelic blue eyes turned a dark stormy grey in an instant, Daniel felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the implicit threat in the angels grim smile as he raised a hand and clicked finger and thumb together, his hand suddenly wreathed in stinking sulphurous flames.  
  
The angel flexed his fingers, as fire danced over his skin, flames reflecting hellishly in his dark eyes until with another click, the hellfire was gone.  
  
The angel uttered one word that was both a threat and a promise “Anything.”

The priest flinched “Is that?”

“Hellfire? Yes”

“How? You’re an angel” the priest sounded vaguely horrified

“Not just an angel. Not any more” Aziraphale had never spoken of his own silent communion with God, not even to Crowley.

“Fuck” said the priest firmly

Aziraphale laughed “Are you going to have an existential crisis about this?”

Daniel stared at him, before saying in a rather strangled voice “So far I have made a deal with a demon on hallowed ground, sinned against my church, dined and danced with a celestial being who may or may not be an angel. What could I possibly have an existential crisis about?”

“Well” said the angel thoughtfully “How would you like a new job?”

******************************************************

The angel broke the enchantment, waved the waitress over to clear their plates, and asked for a couple of whiskeys “Make them doubles” he said with a glance at the slightly shattered priest sitting next to him.

Two tumblers of whisky, icecubes and a jug of water appeared, the bubble of silence resumed masking them from the other patrons. 

“Why are you a priest?” he asked gently.  


Daniel tilted his head back, letting the whisky burn its way down his throat , breathing out the alcohol fumes in a huff “The usual reasons, I felt the calling, wanted to serve God, help people, do good things for the community” he shrugged.  
  
“Does the church offer you everything you need?”

_Well that was a hell of a question._ Daniel toyed with his glass for a long moment “You know it doesn’t but it’s a legitimate choice. They are a bit limited for a religious calling”

“So if you were offered an option where you could serve Her, help people, do good things for a community and do so without judgement of who you are as a person, would you consider it?”

“What kind of option, exactly?”

“Manager of Second Circle, our club” Daniel went to interrupt “No let me explain first”

“Back in the 19th century I was a member of a gentlemans club for many years. It was a place for men to relax away from society, and yes dally with other men on occasion. There were similar things for women, but homosexuality between men was against the law. The clubs offered privacy and escape for people who needed it.”

“Things are better now, but our rainbow youth are still marginalised in many ways. That’s why we opened Second Circle. To provide a safe space for people to meet, socialise without judgement. So far its working but it needs more. I want there to be medical and counselling services available. Many who come from religious backgrounds struggle with balancing who they are with what they are told they should be.”

“You understand the issues and challenges personally. Its clear you have a true calling, but can you adapt and change to fit a different environment? One that will allow you to help and guide others like yourself?”

Daniel frowned “I have no experience running a bar or an enterprise that big”

“Oh don’t worry, the day to day stuff is taken care of, Crowley has people for that. But we need someone to manage the personal side of things, be the human face. Someone who understands.” The angel shrugged “We are planning on leaving London after we get married again” His blue eyes twinkled at the priest “My bookshop could do with a caretaker and has a lovely flat upstairs. Yours rent free if you like?”

_Aziraphale had learned a lot about temptation from Crowley over the millenia, he smiled at the glazed look in the priests eyes at the thought of all those books. He recognised a fellow bibliophile, no matter how badly he mistreated his books._

He said carelessly “Come to the club for dinner again, Thursday if you are free? We can talk more details then if you like?”

“Thursday” said Daniel, sounding rather stunned “Yes I’m free on Thursday”

“Excellent dear chap. Right, you mentioned something about cheesecake?”

******************************************  


Of course, he took the job. Crowley offered to pay him ridiculous amounts of money, with unlimited budget (within reason). His congregation was sad to see him go, but the Church couldn’t wait to get rid of him when they found out where he was going. Although had they known the truth of who he was working _for_ it might have been a different story.  
  
He moved into the suite at the club until the bookshop became available, as the angel advised kindly “you will need to have some space between where you work and live for your own sanity” which he soon discovered was true.   
  
He loved the work, talking, listening, sometimes a shoulder to cry on. The hugs and the smiles and the thankyous made it all worth it.

Lukas moved in with him a few months after he moved into the flat. They got married a couple of years later, with Crowley insisting on throwing a lavish reception at the club as their wedding present. Both sets of parents were scandalised by the Play Rooms, or at least, professed to be.

Crowley offered them his Mayfair flat but Daniel was fond his personal access to the bookshop, the flat was cosy and full of happy memories for them. Plus he had become a fixture in the SoHo scene, so they stayed until eventually they started a family, and needed a bigger place.  
  
They called their first daughter Hope and the second one Faith. 


	6. Gods Wedding Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the Almighty had one last gift to give our Ineffable Idiot Husbands
> 
> Short but sweet.

**_The Day After GMT (God Married Them)_ **

Aziraphale woke, face smooshed into a pillow, wedged into the far side of the bed. Crowley also face down, long arms spread out, one wrapped around the angels waist, the other splayed into the far corner of the mattress. The covers were rucked up messily over both of them and the late morning sun was shining brightly on the angels face. It was what had wakened him.  
  
Wincing at the bright light, the angel turned away from the sunlight, regretting the overconsumption of champagne the night before. Or at least, regretting not remembering to deal with the likely hangover consequences before it kicked in.  
  
It didn’t explain why all the muscles in his back and shoulders were tight and aching, he groaned aloud as he shifted, trying to get comfortable. Carefully rolling onto his back, he hissed at the pain and panted, riding through the spasms of his back muscles.

Crowley murmured into the mattress “Starting without me, love?”

Huffing a laugh then wincing “Ow ow no, don’t make me laugh it hurts” replied the angel breathlessly.  
  
A pair of *very* awake topaz snake eye meet his “What hurts? Where?” the demon rising from his nest of sheets like an avenging angel, tangled hair cascading over slender shoulders.

Aziraphale sighed “Too much flying yesterday, all those tricky crosswinds and aerobatics” he shrugged forgetting, and winced again “Ooooh stings a bit” a fruitless attempt to be brave, closing his eyes tight, he whimpered a tiny amount.

Crowley stripped the covers back, plumped up some pillows and gently asked “Roll over for me, here” he coaxed the angel face down, clambered carefully to sit behind him, miracle up some massage oil for his hands “OK this is going to hurt, but it will feel better, promise”

Slowly, gently he worked his hands up the angels back, soothing, stroking, slowly working deeper into the muscles. Digging in with his thumbs up the sides of the spine, making the angel squirm and then sigh, loosening up the traps, lats, deltoids and all the complicated muscles that wrap in under the arms and shoulder blades.  
  
Crowley pressed a series of kisses across the angels back “Better?”

“Mmmm much, thankyou dearest” and the angel started to move but a firm hand in the middle of his back stopped him  
  
“Sorry Angel, but you need to get your wings out, and stretch them, or it will be even worse tomorrow”

A shuddering sigh “Must I?”

Another scattering of kisses “You know I’m right, angel”

“Oh very well” with a silent fwomp he released his wings and groaned, then slowly flexed them out and in, working the big flight muscles. It was sore but better, and easing as he worked the wings.

“Aziraphale” the demons voice sounded odd, and the weight on the angels legs lifted as the demon slid to stand next to the bed “Can you stand up please?”

He didn’t really *want* to but since Crowley had asked with that peculiar tone to his voice, the angel carefully levered himself upright and turned to face the demon who was staring at his wings.  
  
_Oh……oh…..oh no….._

Aziraphale arched his wings around, relieved to see they were still the same lustrous white iridescent gold…..except for the coal black primaries and a band of bright cobalt blue major covert feathers.

“Oh, well that’s interesting” he looked at the demon, who closed his eyes and bought his wings out

They were the reverse of the angels, glossy coal black with bright white primaries and bold red major coverts.

“Well” drawled the demon “That’s a thing, then” he tucked his wings away and held a hand out to Aziraphale “Let me tempt you to a nice hot soak in the bath?”

With one final stretch, the angel tucked his wings away, reached forward to take his husbands hand with a smile “And maybe a spot of hair washing?”

Crowley blushed “Only if you want to, angel”

“Only seems fair, you rub my bits, I rub yours”

“What a filthy mouth you have angel! Do you kiss your husband with that mouth?”

“As often as he lets me….mmmmph”


	7. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every After is Happy. Sometimes there are consequences for our actions, or unexpected outcomes. Part of the After is dealing with what comes after. The good and the bad and the in between.
> 
> Its not always possible to anticipate such events. Sometimes you gotta roll with the punches.
> 
> Crowley finds this one out the hard way but his clever angel has an idea of what might help.

_Not every After is Happy. Sometimes there are consequences for our actions, or unexpected outcomes. Part of the After is dealing with what comes after. The good and the bad and the in between._  
  
  
Its not always possible to anticipate such events. Sometimes you gotta roll with the punches.

** _A week after GMT (God Married Them)_ **

They’ve gone for one last walk on the beach, hand in hand, content to quietly reflect on their time at the manor. Tomorrow they headed back to London, and whatever the new reality of their lives had in store.

Crowley laughs as he hauls the slightly puffed angel up the last steep stretch of track to the headland “I told you those pretty oxfords would be the wrong choice, angel."

Grumpily Aziraphale looked at his mud streaked shoes before sighing and following his husbands hand tugging him along to the best viewpoint. From here they can see the manor, all up the coast and part of Wales when its clear enough. He smiled as Crowley hugs up to him from behind, pressing a kiss to the blond temple, and resting both arms casually over the angels shoulders, hands dangling relaxed.  
  
“Gonna miss this place” Crowley sounded a bit surprised.

“What will you miss, dearest?”

“S’nice, just the two of us, quiet, peaceful. Could get used to that”

“Bit far from London though.”

“Mmmmm.”

“This place is too big for just us, maybe something smaller? With a garden?”

“What are you suggesting angel?”

Aziraphale turned in place, blue eyes bright “Lets retire properly, my love. Get a cottage somewhere, near the sea would be nice. Neither of us need to be in London anymore, and it makes a fairly obvious statement, in case anyone is keeping tabs on us.”

“A garden, you say?” drawled the demon “Plus room for all your bloody books too?” and the angel blushed.

“Well, some of them, anyway. Only the very special ones.” _As if that didn’t mean all of them._

“Sussex or maybe the South Downs? Close enough to London if we need it.” The demon paused “Lots of villages. Very quaint” he said in a pained tone of voice.  
  
Aziraphale stepped forward and kissed him lightly “Fruit trees, sunshine, sea breezes” another kiss “Your very own greenhouse” another kiss “Strawberries” another kiss “Compost!”

Crowley burst out laughing “You know a way to a demons heart” he returned the kiss with interest “Alright, you’ve tempted me. Lets look when we get home, hmmm?”

Bright blue eyes got even brighter hearing him use the word ‘home’ and mean the both of them, together. It was still sinking in for each of them, what their future might hold. It was …….invigorating, to know they had freedom to make their own choices now.

Crowley shook his wings out “C’mon angel, one last flight, to remember this place by?” and the angel stepped back, bringing his wings out “Lead the way, my dear.”

They launched into the afternoon sky, flying purely for pleasure, skirmishing in the air, Crowley throwing in some acrobatic tumbles for the sheer fun of it. It was a fitting goodbye to the place they had lived for the past four months.

**********************************************

Crowley cursed inventively under his breath, wending his way through the busy London traffic, tired after a days driving.

“Fucking awful traffic, angel. That cottage idea? Sounding better and better.”

Aziraphale unclenched his white knuckled hands, being a passenger in the Bentley was an experience on a good day, and today had been long for both of them “Nearly home, my love” he murmured, laying a hand on the demons taut thigh, giving it a squeeze.

Finally the lights changed, and they swept round the corner, down the street that led to the bookstore, where Crowley parked the Bentley in the service alley behind the shop. A blink had all the luggage piled in the middle of the shop floor, and they levered themselves out of the car, stretching the kinks out of their still human bodies.

The door unlocked under the angels hand, but slid open slowly, the reason being the large pile of mail scattered behind it. “Oh dear” muttered Aziraphale as he bent to collect it all “I forgot about that.”

It took three trips to dump the mail on his desk from the doorway, he stood dusting his waistcoat down with a grimace and finally noticed the demon standing just inside the doorway, posture unnaturally stiff. He was trembling.

_The smell of books and dust went straight to his frontal and temporal lobes. His higher system functions shut down as the smell of burning paper became overwhelming as the memory cascade triggered a full on panic attack._

_He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, he was back in the burning bookstore, the unbearable loss of his angel tearing his soul apart again….and again….and again._

“Crowley my dear, are you alright?” he went to his husband who took a shaky step forward, wrapping both arms around him, burying his face, uncomfortable sunglasses and all in the angels shoulder. Shaking so much that Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon, and slowly lowered them to the floor, kneeling to take the weight of the demon, shuddering with sobs in his grasp. With a blink he slammed the door shut, and locked, flicking all the lights on, drenching the place in warm light.

“It’s alright my love, I’m here, I’ve got you” He stroked the long scarlet tresses, murmuring wordless soothing noises, rocking them both until he could make out what Crowley was saying,

“You were gone, gone, everything was on fire, burning, smell the smoke, the books, paper burning. Gone, everything gone.”

Cradling the back of the demons head, soothing him with long sweeping strokes down the tightly clenched back, the angel murmured “I’m here, love, still here, safe. We are both safe.”

He realised with a shock, that Crowley had only been back to the shop twice since the fire, once while wearing his Aziraphale corporation, and the second to collect the angel when they left for the trip. Both only brief and distracted circumstances. Today was the first time he had walked in with the intention of staying put. Something must have triggered a memory.  
  
They needed to move, get the demon out of this situation, but Aziraphale realised that his rather meagre flat upstairs wasn’t going to provide the support and comfort the demon needed. With a sigh, he blinked and they appeared on the floor of Crowleys starkly minimalist flat, on the floor next to his ridiculous throne and great slabbed dining table.

With a great shudder, Crowley collapsed against him, like a puppet whose strings were cut “Sorry angel” he whispered painfully.  
  
“Oh my dearest, no apology necessary” They both shared the demons memory of what it had been like for him to find the bookstore on fire. He removed his sunglasses and kissed the taut brow “Bath, Brandy or Bed?”

“Whisky, shower, food and then bed.”

“Lovely idea, can you manage?” A little unsteadily the demon wavered to his feet.

“M’alright now angel, better after a whisky” never had the demon sounded so heartfelt.

Aziraphale tucked a supportive shoulder under the demons arm and steered him towards the booze cabinet “Of course my love.”

***********************************  
  
Tucked up in bed a couple of hours later, clean, fed, the angel stroked his husbands hair as he drifted off into an exhausted sleep.  
  
Apparently the sight of the bookstore had triggered a psychosomatic sense of the smell of smoke, resulting in the panic attack, bought on by the memory trauma.

Aziraphale was at a bit of a loss as to how to deal with it, but he had one idea. Once Crowley was sound asleep, snuffling into his pillow, the angel slid out of bed, closed the door behind him, collected his cellphone, headed into the kitchen.  
  
Carefully he dialled, and hoped it wasn’t too late in the evening for a polite call. A familiar American voice answered the call “Aziraphale, what do you need?”

“Oh my dear” he said in tones of profound relief “How did you know?”

“Did you forget I’m a witch?” she said tartly.

“Of course not, in fact that’s why I called. Can you come to London? I need you to do an exorcism. Or a cleansing. Or a something?”

“Hang on” she said and came back on the call “OK tell me everything. I’m taking notes.”

“Well, my dear girl, it goes like this…..”

****************************************  
Anathema wanted time to do some research, plus she and Newt decided a weekend in London would be a nice treat. Crowley booked them an AirBnB within walking distance on his credit card (he insisted).

He was able to go into the bookstore, but it made him twitchy and miserable, so they stayed at his flat. No comment was made about the tartan rug and plump cushions that appeared on his severe looking (but comfortable) sofa. 

The plants didn’t appear to have missed him much, he had popped in weekly to feed and water them so they were alive, but they had obviously decided to have a holiday too. He growled at them for forms sake, but didn’t feel the need to scream his version of encouragement at them. 

They met Anathema and Newt on the Friday morning. Aziraphale opened up the shop, invited the young couple in. Newt looked around wide eyed as he stepped into the shop “That’s a lot of books” he exchanged a glance with the witch “No touching, I remember.”

Anathema took one long look at the demon and announced “Coffee. And Cake. Somewhere we can talk for a bit.”

“Maison Bertaux?” queried Crowley to his angel.

“Perfect, they open soon, we can get a table if we don’t dawdle”, Aziraphale looking very enthusiastic at going to one of his favourite places. Crowley ushered them all out of the shop with a sigh.  
  
Miraculously a table *was* free when they got there, soon it was groaning with delicious treats, tea and coffee. The four of them began to demolish the food, until even the angel was sated. Crowley sipped at his third black coffee (with a dash of cream) and opened the conversation.  
  
“So. Whats the plan then?”

Anathema rested her chin on both hands, looking intently at the demon for a long moment “First we do an exorcism, then a cleansing, then a blessing.”

He looked at her over his sunglasses “On me or the shop?”

“Both actually”

He and the angel exchanged a glance “You do realise that carrying out an exorcism on a demon isn’t …..wise” said Aziraphale carefully.  
  
She pushed her glasses firmly up her nose and sniffed “Oh its not for him, its for his memories”

Turning to the angel “Can I have access to your texts again, I want to check some of my sigils and glyphs?” Aziraphale nodded, but flicked a hand to Crowley “Of course my dear, but if you need help Crowley is extremely skilled in that area.”

Crowley shrugged “Help if you need it”

Newton stirred, saying quietly “Perhaps it might help to remove all the candles from the shop? I saw a lot of them when we were there. Plus it doesn’t look like you have a sprinkler system or anything?”

The demon felt something relax slightly at the thought of adding in modern fire suppression tools and nodded at Newt “That’s a good idea, hadn’t thought of that. Angel?”

Aziraphale sighed but agreed “Of course, dearest, whatever you need.”

“Right then, shall we?”

As they wandered back to the shop, Aziraphale and Anathema talking animatedly about their plans, Crowley asked idly “So how long does it take you to drive to London in that ridiculous car of yours?”

Newt blushed a little “Actually I gave it to Madam Tracy and Shadwell when they moved. So they can come visit.”

Crowley suppressed an eyeroll, but even Newt got the hint and laughed quietly “I know, but it makes Anathema happy. Madam Tracy is quite sweet actually. Says the most shocking things though.”

“Can only imagine. So what are you driving then?”

Newt hunched a shoulder “Oh we got a Prius. The new all-wheel drive one”

“Yeah? Like it?”

“Well its got four wheels for a start, so that’s a big improvement” said Newt with a light touch of sarcasm but heavy on the humour.

The demon chuffed a laugh “Beat me to that one. Go on then.”

They chatted about cars on the way back to the bookstore.

***************************************************

Crowley and Anathema raided the stash of magic texts, laying them out on the desk, taking notes, scribbling designs as they debated the merits of one sigil over another. Clearly it was going to be a long intense day.

Newt had endeared himself to Aziraphale by asking for a tour of the shop contents and they were down the back corner, where the angel kept his favourite poetry away from prying customer eyes.  
  
Sunglasses long since discarded, Crowley rubbed a hand over tired eyes and sighed. Anathema laid a gentle hand briefly on his knee and squinted at him in an oddly concentrated way.  
  
“What do you see?” he asked after a pause

She blinked back to awareness “Oh that’s very bright” and she scrunched her eyes together “Like staring at the sun”

“My aura? Can tone it down a bit if you like?” he clenched something internally

“Oh thankyou, yes that helps……..Oh my…..oh…..” her voice trailed off breathless and soft. She swallowed and looked away, blinking.

“I’ve never seen ……love like that before. So intense and bright and true. But its stained with grief and fear and loss. Such terrible pain. Layers of it.”

Crowley stared at the witch, stunned by the accuracy of her perception. He knew she was aware of a very small part of their story, but not enough to give *that* level of insight. Perhaps she was the real deal after all.   
  
His voice was rough “Can you fix it?”

Anathema smiled sadly at him “Its part of who you are, so its not really fixable. But I can help, take the rough edges off. More of a healing than a fixing.”

He flicked a glance up at her dark eyes “Thankyou” he said slowly “Its…. kind… of you to help.”

She gave him that wry half smile that acknowledged how hard she knew that was for him to say, replying only “That’s what friends do, help each other. You are teaching me a great deal, you know, probably more than you should?”

He returned a gentler version of his smirk “You helped save the world, pretty sure we can trust you.”

***********************************************  
  
By Sunday afternoon they were all exhausted. Crowley and Anathema had sketched out the basis for several spells, Newt had been volunteered to transcribe the pages of notes onto Crowleys laptop (specially miracled for him not to destroy it). Aziraphale provided books, reference texts, got called into referee arguments, and made endless pots of tea.

Anathema wanted time to refine her spellwork, and the following Sunday would be a full moon. She and Newt would return for the weekend.  
  
Aziraphale bundled up all the candles in the shop, put them in a box and gave them to the witch. Good beeswax candles were a powerful ingredient, especially ones blessed by an angel. Crowley spent the week researching sprinkler system designs. Eventually Aziraphale agreed to his final idea, and Crowley miracled it into place. The angel put up a large bubble protecting his books, and they tested the system with the one remaining candle left in the shop for that purpose. It worked.

It helped. A bit.

************************************************

There is a period sometimes, when both the sun and the moon are in the sky at the same time, early morning. A limnal space, a gateway between night and day.  
  
Anathema spent all night drawing her spell circle on the floor of the bookshop. They had moved some of the furniture to make room for it. She and Crowley tripled checked her work, and they sat in the predawn dark, drinking hot tea. Newt was snoring quietly on the sofa and the angel was fussing about upstairs, giving them some space to prepare.  
  
“I’m sorry about the candles” she said softly.

He shrugged “S’alright, its part of the spell.” Just the sight of them was making him twitchy, he knew she noticed, but it was a necessary component. Couldn’t be avoided. He’d deal.

The alarm on his phone buzzed quietly and they both stood and stared at each other for a long moment. “Ready?” he said roughly.

A firm nod “Ready.”

Anathema had crafted a labyrinth framework. Crowley would enter the maze, close the outer circle, walk the maze while reciting the spell. Once he reached the center, he would close the inner circle, and he and Anathema would speak the rest of the spell together.

He took the chalk from her, barefoot stepped into the outer part of the maze, bent to close the circle with a scratch of chalk. Eyes intent on the narrow path for his feet, he began to speak the Latin words that he and Aziraphale had insisted the spell be crafted in. Latin had specific structures that lent itself to not being misunderstood. Even his ancient Roman accent remained.

Power built as he walked the circle perimeter three times. The air crackled, Anathema’s hair started to rise at the build of static from the arcane energies. It was working!  
  
Slowing to ensure he timed his steps with the words, he stepped into the open center of the circle, crouching to close the line of chalk. With a bright blast of light, the nine white candles set around the outside edges of the circle burst into flame.  
  
She smiled shakily at the demon standing in the ring of fire, he nodded back and together they spoke the final phrasing of the spell. They repeated it three times, louder each time, finishing with a resounding “So Mote It Be!”

With a soundless clap, the arcane energy exploded, the candle flames suddenly extinguished, leaving them standing in the pale dawn light. The bookstore was filled with a feeling of calm and the faint scent of cinnamon.

Crowley swayed and with a murmured “Fuck” slowly collapsed down onto his hands and knees, head hanging. She bit her lip, worried but giving him a minute before asking “Crowley?”

“M’OK, just packed a bit of a punch” he sat back on his heels and looked at her with a smile “It worked Book Girl”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” he levered his lanky frame upright, broke the circle with one toe, carefully stepped his way to the outer circle, broke that and stepped over to the witch, enfolding her in a brief tight hug “You do good work”

She hugged him back “We do good work.”

Aziraphale appeared from the shadows of the back room, two mugs steaming with the fragrance of strong coffee with a generous dash of brandy, handing one to Anathema, exchanging a kiss with his husband before handing over the coffee.  
  
“It felt very powerful. Well done my dears. Successful?”

Two bright smiles greeted him. Newt snuffled on the couch behind them. Aziraphale laughed and ushered them upstairs “Perhaps a spot of breakfast?”. They gathered up the candles to take upstairs.

Anathema said brightly "So when are you going to hold your reception? Wedding celebration thing?" Crowley groaned and the angel shushed him "Well my dear, I did want to talk to you about that."

************************************************

_If he closed his eyes, and remembered, he could smell the smoke, the reek of burning paper. Feel the flames licking around him and he would shudder, wracked with the memory of grief._  
  
But as all memories do, even for a being over six millenia old, they fade and lose their hold on us.

_For when he opened his eyes, his angel was there, smiling at him._  
  
Finally, he could breathe.


	8. We Dwell In Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a bit of luck they might just find their cottage on the South Downs....

** _2 months after GMT (God Married Them)_ **

It had been quite a trying day, all things considered. Crowley had not been pleased at the early start to avoid the morning traffic, though the country drive had perked his spirits up. He had taken his revenge on the angel by refusing to stay for a lingering breakfast, instead grabbing a bag of pastries and hot drinks to go. Aziraphale sulked and dropped an unnecessary amount of crumbs all over the seat of the Bentley.

The real estate agent was annoyingly perky, endless chattering nonsense that had Crowley grinding his teeth, even wearing on the angels normally calm demeanour.

They had lined up three likely cottage properties to view in the South Downs area and each one had been a disappointment. Too small, too close to other houses, too soulless. It had been an exercise in frustration for all three of them until even the angel had got fed up.  
  
Currently they were having a well deserved glass of wine in a random village pub. Denise, the agent had joined them, on the premise she had one more place they might like to view.

She swirled her house red in the glass “Its been on the books for a while, has a bit of a sad history. But given your issues with the other places, I think you might as well take a look. And its only about 15 minutes from here.”

Crowley heaved a put upon sigh, but subsided at a firm angelic hand on his thigh “Might as well tell us the story while we are here, my dear” urged the angel politely.

“Well its an old farm cottage, was built on the family farm for the oldest boy to move into. They kept the tradition up three generations, but they had terrible luck in the past few years. Parents got too old to manage, had to sell up, but the cottage was a separate title, in their sons name.”

She sighed and moodily stared into her wine glass “He was a chef, up and coming. Very good by all accounts. Had big plans for the place. Updated the kitchen and bathroom about 5 years ago. I’ve seen the plans, it was going to be something special.”

They looked at each other and Aziraphale said very gently “Was?”

“Oh!” Denise blinked rapidly at him “Silly me, forgot the important bit, sorry. Tragic accident. He was hit by a drunk driver when he was working in America. Died on impact. Family was devastated. Only child too.”

Crowley said quietly “And the parents?”

Denise wiped away a tear, smearing her mascara a bit “Both of them have passed away now too. Shock was too much for them in the end.”

“Why hasn’t it sold?”

She shrugged “Its got quite a bit of land, lots of garden, fruit trees, couple of farm sheds. A lot more upkeep than most people want. The house needs a fair bit of work. But its very private, down a long driveway, no neighbours and its zoned for farmland. Mature trees on the boundaries.”

They looked at each other and Crowley nodded “Alright, might as well take a look.”

Doubtfully she looked at them “Really?”

Crowley shrugged as he stood up “Yeah, one more can’t hurt, alright angel?”. Denise understood the pet name when the blond smiled very angelically at his husband. It was quite adorable.

“Oh, you will have to leave your Bentley here though. The road is pretty rough, would hate for you to damage it.”

Black clad shoulders stiffened, but relaxed at the fierce glare from a pair of blue eyes “Appreciate the warning.”

He held the door open and ushered the angel and the agent outside. At least her pretentious SUV had enough legroom for him to sprawl across the backseat.

**************************************************

The driveway was quite long, a good half mile from the road and it was in atrocious condition. Huge potholes and long trenches would have bogged the Bentley well and truly. Denise at the end of the driveway and urged them to get out to appreciate the view.  
  
From where they stood the edge of the downs was a couple hundred meters away, stretching for miles in either direction. They were nestled in a bit of a dip, so some protection from the wind. The property was lined with mature Normandy poplars, interspersed with firs of some kind, providing both windbreak and privacy.  
  
Denise waved a hand out over the view “The boundary stops here, and the rest of the land is managed by the National Park Authority. They maintain the land and the walking track.”

Crowley muttered “Bloody tourists” not particularly quietly.

She chivvied them back into the vehicle, backing up to navigate a rather sharp hairpin bend to bring them onto the property. It was a good couple of acres of land. The house sat very solidly, well placed for sunshine, a very neglected flower garden out the front.

They wandered along the paths, the demon drawn by the profusion of flowers til they met a low stone wall that bordered the division between flower garden and what probably had been a decent sized vege patch. Rows of fruit trees further afield invited exploration.

A solid three car garage sat behind the house, a couple of decent sized sheds and what looked like the skeleton of some structure. Crowley murmured “Poly house” and at the angels questioning look “Like a glasshouse but made of plastic.”

It was very quiet, the hiss of wind in the trees was soothing, the salt smell of the air was pleasant. Denise let them wander in their own time, making her way round the back, fighting with the large bunch of keys that came with the property to find the right one for the back door.

Inside the house was dusty, with that closed off musty smell of a building that had been shut up for several years. It was a clean dry smell, no mould or damp present, fortunately. She pulled the curtains, letting the weak winter sunlight in. She pottered about, overcome with the urge to dust, waiting for her clients to find the open door.

It was a longshot, showing them this place, but something about it had felt right. Despite a tendency to talk too much when she was nervous, she was a good listener, and the important thing with selling houses was listening to what potentially clients didn’t say. Learning to discern the nuggets of truth and helping them find what they were actually looking for, rather than what they thought they were looking for.  
  
It wasn’t always easy, but matching a property to the right owners was a distinctly satisfying experience. She had an odd feeling about these two, and had eventually untangled the problem. They were both focussed on what each other wanted, more than themselves. It was kinda sweet, if not a little aggravating.

****************************************

Crowley stood by the stone wall, staring out over the garden. Aziraphale delicately perched himself on the wall and sat facing the house, reached up and twined his fingers in the demons, pressing a light kiss to the back of his hand.   
  
“Its just as well you are as rich as Croesus my dear, because that drive way is going to cost a small fortune to sort out” he murmured in a dry tone.

Absentmindedly the demon replied “Mmmm” then “What?” and sat down next to his angel and sighed.

“We haven’t even seen inside the house.”

An angelic shrug “Doesn’t really matter, we can *finger wiggle* anything we need. But you want this, I can see it” blue eyes twinkled at him and he breathed in reluctant agreement   
  
“Oh I do, angel, I really do. Is it alright?”

“Will it make you happy?”

Crowley glanced at the house, it was far enough away he could risk taking of his glasses. It had become their habit when discussing serious subjects, removing all the barriers between them.

“Being with you makes me happy, angel. But yes, this is everything I didn’t know I was looking for.” He smiled “There might be a pond, we could have ducks.”

“C’mon” he stood, tugging the angel upright “Lets go look inside.”

They followed the path round to the back door, waiting open in invitation, it led to a mud room (of course, being a farmhouse) with pegs to hang up jackets, a sink for washing up and laundry plumbing.

“Oh!” exclaimed Aziraphale as they walked into the kitchen featuring a double gas oven, commercial range top, acres of stainless steel benchtop, sinks. A shiny fronted dishwasher matched the large upright fridge and freezer. A large walk in pantry off to one side.  
  
A glossy grey and white marble topped island provided more workspace and cupboards abounded. It was a very modern stylish and entirely functional kitchen.

The house was empty of furniture, dusty and neglected but as the angel walked forward into the dining area, looking out the French doors across the overgrown garden view he turned to Crowley “It feels very loved, this house. There was such hope too. It was looking forward to having a purpose again.”

Denise wandered round a corner to their left “Bathroom and bedrooms this way” and they followed her obediently. An extra wing had been added at some point, providing one large and three smaller bedrooms.  
  
The bathroom was as sleek and modern as the kitchen, tiled in large marble tiles on floor and walls. A large glass walk-in shower similar to the one in Crowleys flat, if half the size. Possibly room for a bathtub if they were …..creative.

They wandered back across the dining room, stopping to admire the large built in fireplace that backed on to the other room, also accessed by French doors. Denise pushed them open to show a long narrow room, with a modern sliding door giving a view of the garden, and large picture windows drenching the place in what sunlight there was.  
  
“Living room” announced Denise with some satisfaction, as they stood admiring the space and the light.

“Bedroom” murmured Crowley and the angel answered him with a little shiver that agreed with the demon’s thoughts – room for them to stretch their wings in perfect comfort.

“Yes?” Crowley asked. With a kiss, his husband agreed “Yes, of course my darling.”

Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to the hopeful Denise, who became a lot less hopeful as the startlingly savvy man in the sunglasses began haggling with a disconcerting understanding of contract law and negotiations.  
  
“Right, the driveway needs grading and filling, the house is filthy and needs at least one professional clean, if not more. The gardens need a good overhaul, need to check the wiring and the phone lines. Plumbing and drains as well. Plus we haven’t even looked at the state of the outbuildings yet.”

Aziraphale shooed them both outside “Off you go, outside then” and smiled at the harried look in the agents face as Crowley talked animatedly at her. Demons invented contracts after all.

The angel wandered about the place, idly touching a hand to the mantlepiece, a window frame, the cold marble benchtop and whispered “Will you take care of us? If we take care of you?”

It was sleeping, he could feel it, and gave the bench a gentle pat “Wake up soon, my dear. We will be coming back, and eventually we will stay for good.”

He wandered out into the garden, passed beyond the stone wall, and found a path through the long grass to the orchard. As he suspected there were apple, peach, plum, apricot and cherry trees. They were old, but healthy and he gave one of the apple trees an affectionate pat as he walked past.   
  
The swish of grasses heralded the arrival of Crowley, who grinned cheerfully “C’mon angel, we need to head back and get started on the paperwork” and they walked hand in hand back to the house.

“Have you agreed on a price?”

“Oh we will, and it will be fair” he waved a hand “Given the circumstances”

Aziraphale flicked him a glance but smiled to himself “Of course, dearest”.   
  
As they approached the stone wall something caught his attention and he tugged the demon over, crouching down to run a hand over a plaque, mounted on the wall. Brushing grass away, he traced out the words “We Dwell In Forever”.

They stood for a moment, appreciating the sentiment “I wonder what it meant?” said Aziraphale quietly.

“Hmmm?”

“For the people who put it there?”

After a long moment Crowley said quietly “I think they were happy here” but they both understood the fragile mortality of human lives, with the realisation that forever meant different things for them.

Crowley cupped a hand around his angels jaw, stroking a thumb gently over the pale cheek and leaned in for a sweet but serious kiss “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh my darling, it’s the only thing in my world that is 100% true”

***********************************************

The negotiations took a couple of weeks, the property was in the hands of estate lawyers, who were equally startled to be faced with a layperson who spoke their language, who was unrepentant at using all the loopholes against them.  
  
“S’their own fault, angel” explained Crowley “The estate had funds for property upkeep, but they chose not to use it. Might have sold earlier if they had put some effort into it” he shrugged “Plus half the cost of the driveway should be covered by the council, I looked into the boundary lines and the farm next door should be footing some of the bill too.”

Finally agreement was reached, gleefully by Crowley and glumly by the estate lawyers. Paperwork was signed, large amounts of money were exchanged and they drove down to pick up the keys from a delighted Denise.  
  
She handed the keys over along with a bottle of acceptable champagne, and a card inscribed   
  
“_Congratulations to the new owners of Forever Cottage”_


	9. The Wedding Planner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today - I've had a bit of a cold and quite tired after a busy day back at work.

** _Upstairs in the Bookshop, after the spellcasting_ **

Aziraphale and Anathema chatted animatedly about party planning. Crowley lounged across one armchair, sipping at his doctored coffee, scowling in their general direction. On principle, of course.  
  
He angled his chair to take advantage of the morning sunbeams, drifting off into a light doze, lulled by the two voices, when a third one sleepily joined the discussion. Newt had finally awakened, looking in dire need of hot caffeine. Seeing as the angel was brewing more, Crowley roused himself enough to growl “Yeah” when asked if he wanted another.  
  
Still barely paying attention to the discussion being rehashed to bring Newt up to speed, the success of the spell, and the initial party planning stages, Crowley brain stuttered back on line when Newt said in thoughtful tones “Won’t you need to get married here on Earth too, like for legal purposes?”

Aziraphale looked a little startled “Oh….we hadn’t really thought about it?” and Crowley shrugged, he had but God had stolen his thunder, so there didn’t seem to be any point.  
  
“A bit more complicated for us, I have a full legal existence, paperwork, history, tax, bank details and so on. Angel?”

“Yes dear, of course I do. How do you think I managed ownership of the bookshop over the centuries?”

“Same way as you manage those helpful men who try to convince you to sell up?”

The angel squirmed a bit in embarrassment “Quite”

Newt and Anathema looked at each other but wisely chose to say nothing. Crowley looked at his angel and sighed “Do you want to then?”. He sighed again at how brightly the angels eyes shone, as he wriggled a bit with delight.

“Oh my dear, it will be splendid!”

Just like that, they were getting married…..again.

Crowley stood and stretched and held a hand out to Aziraphale “C’mere” and he wrapped his arms around his cuddly angel and held him still, and fixed Anathema with a fierce glare, saying

“Anathema is in charge of EVERYTHING, no tartan whatsoever, there will be a garden and no church, a year to the day that She married us. Budget is unlimited, within reason, and you will be paid for your time. I get final say in anything you can’t sort out between yourselves. I strongly suggest you don’t push your luck too far with that. Agreed? Angel?”

“But…” his frustrated husband strained against the long demon arms that tightened around him, and Crowley said again, but less patiently “Agreed, Angel?”

“No tartan?” asked the angel in a broken whisper.  
  
“None.” Aziraphale heaved a great put upon sigh “Agreed dearest” and Crowley looked at the witch, asking her “Agreed, Anathema?”

She looked at Newt who nodded big eyed at her, strode forward and stuck her hand out. “Agreed” she said firmly, and they shook.

Crowley pressed a kiss to a blond temple “Right, I am going to have a nap. Newt, feel free to have a shower. Angel, let these nice people leave by lunchtime, alright?”

“But, so much to do!”

“We'll go to Tadfield next weekend, stay a couple of days. If that suits?” he asked the young couple who nodded.

Newt eventually dragged Anathema out the door mid afternoon, and they sat in the Prius for a long moment, a bit stunned at the turn of events. He turned to her “Are you sure about this?” and she laughed

“It feels right, plus we both need a job. How bad could it be?”


	10. More Human Than You Realise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale goes all Bridezilla and Crowley loses his shit about it. Anathema gets a few surprises and Newt shows an unexpected insight into relationship dynamics. Crowley takes his advice and is pleasantly surprised at the outcome.

****_The following Friday, 1 hr into the drive to Tadfield  
  
_It was raining, there had been at least one accident holding up traffic on the way out of London. Crowley gritted his teeth, hands whiteknuckled on the steering wheel, muttering curses under his breath. Both at the traffic and at an overexcited Aziraphale who HAD NOT STOPPED TALKING SINCE THEY GOT IN THE CAR.

AN HOUR AGO.

FUCK.

He snarled in frustration as the traffic in front of them slowed down _again_ and Aziraphale tapped him on the thigh “Are you even listening to me Crowley?” he huffed.  
  
Slowly the demon turned his head, stared hard at the angel, tipped his gaze down to the hand still on his leg, and stared back at the now wary blue eyes. The hand was removed, Aziraphale said snippily “Now now dear, no need to get tetchy. We can have a nice conversation while we wait for this to sort itself out” waving a hand casually at the cars lined up in front of them.  
  
Long fingers clenched and unclenched around the steering wheel, it creaked a bit under the strain. With a deep sigh, the demon leaned back in his seat, not looking at the angel spoke in a particularly dry cutting tone “Conversation angel? That would imply dialogue. Between two people. Both taking part in the talking. Which would mean” he took a deep breath, letting it whistle out between his teeth “It would mean that you would actually have to STOP talking. At some point. After all, its only been an hour…..”

Aziraphale had the grace to blush, and wriggle in embarrassment in his seat before saying quietly “Quite. Yes. My dear, I apologise. You are quite right” he wriggled again in excitement “But there is so much to do….!”

“Aziraphale!” the angel shut up. Crowley slid his glasses down so that his eyes were visible “So help me, if I have to listen to this for the next few months I will either sleep until its over, or drag you down to the Registry Office, and get it done in 10 minutes. No party. No bloody fussing and fretting over every pointless detail.”

“But…”

“Angel, I know that it matters to you, and its very exciting. But I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT every bloody minute. Besides, we have other things we need to be talking about.”

The Bentley glides along slowly with the traffic, slowing down to another halt again. Roadworks Crowley suspects. He glances over at the unhappy angel who is frowning resentfully at him, hands fretting at each other in his lap. The demon let the silence stretch, sliding his glasses up, relaxing into his seat. Aziraphale needs a moment to process so Crowley grants him the space to do that, focussing on the stop/start traffic ahead of him.

Eventually a hand settles lightly on his thigh, with a gentle squeeze, and the angel sighs “Sorry dearest, you know how I get” his tone is rueful, “you may have to remind me again though.”

“Why do you think I put Anathema in charge?”

An unwilling smile on those perfect cupids bow lips “Wise choice, dearest. But what else do we need to talk about?”

“Collateral damage” said Crowley grimly, navigating the roadcones, mindful of the loose shingle under the Bentleys tires. Fortunately most of the traffic is headed to Oxford, with barely any traffic on the way to Tadfield, gratefully he picks up speed.

“I don’t understand. What collateral damage?”

“How happy to you think Heaven and Hell are about us at the moment?”

“Not very, but they can’t do anything about it, not any more.”

“Not to us, no. But what about our human allies. Friends?”

“Oh my dear. Anathema and Newt. Madam Tracy. The children!” Crowley nodded in grim agreement.  
  
“Exactly. Adam probably has Tadfield protected in some way, but he may not have thought about it long term. He’s just a kid after all.”

“Anathema is a very capable witch, but her knowledge is…limited” Aziraphale was thoughtful “We can teach her, and maybe lay down wards?”

Crowley nodded “We can use the wedding as cover for you to bring her up to speed” He grinned wickedly “Loan her some books….”

Snippily the angel replied “Temporary loan, my dear”

“Yes we know what happened to the last book of importance she owned, and that was your fault.”

Aziraphale huffed at him, but with affection. Crowley slowed as they came into Tadfield village, navigating the narrow cobbled streets til they got to Jasmine Cottage. The throaty roar of the Bentley had heads turning, bringing Anathema and Newt from the cottage.

*********************************************

Crowley sat in on the first hour of discussion, arbitrating around the initial discussion and reminding the enthusiastic angel of what he had agreed to.

Anathema had clearly done a significant amount of research, preparing checklists that had the angel wriggling in delight. Crowley sipped his too weak tea, wishing desperately for alcohol, he would escape to the pub soon.  
  
“So, when you said the budget was unlimited, can you put a number on that?” Anathema was coolly curious.

Crowley shrugged “Dunno, is a hundred grand enough? To start with?”

She choked on her mouthful of tea “Oh, no, that should be fine”, exchanging a wide eyed glance with Newt “We can work with that.”

Running a hand through his hair, Crowley made some mental notes of his own “Good thought, will organise you a credit card for expenses. Fifty K ought to do it.”

He stood, catching Newt’s eye “Pub?” and bit back a smile at the grateful relief on the young mans face at the opportunity to escape.  
  
“Sure, just grab a jacket.” He dropped a kiss on the witch’s cheek on the way out the door, but she and the angel were deep in discussion on napkin colour choices.

************************************

Apparently the traditional English pub was the better choice of the two available in Tadfield, with locally made cider on tap and a good menu on offer.  
  
Two pints of cider were drawn, a ploughmans lunch ordered, Crowley followed Newt as he led them round the side of the bar, down a dark hallway, down some treacherously narrow steps that opened out to a cosy space featuring a gas fire, two armchairs and a couple of plump sofas. Blissfully free of any other patrons.  
  
Newt settled into one of the chairs, Crowley opting to lounge on the sofa in front of the fire, basking the winter chill out of his angular frame. He ventured a sip of the cider “Bloody hell, that’s got a kick.”

“Goes down very nicely and leaves you with a bastard of a hangover though. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Crowley smirked “Don’t get hangovers, not if I don’t want to.”

Newt stared at him and sighed “I hate you” he breathed, and the demon shrugged.

“Be nice to me and I can fix yours too.”

Newt tilted his head with a cheeky smile on his face “How *nice* do I have to be, exactly?” and the innuendo was not lost on the demon, who laughed.

“Its always the quiet ones, lucky Anathema” and they clinked glasses in husbandly camaraderie.

Footsteps heralded the delivery of the ploughmans lunch, the waitress greeting Newt “Where’s that lovely Anathema then my lad?”

“Thanks Ally, she’s still up at the cottage, this is our friend Crowley, Anathema is planning his wedding.”

Ally wiped a hand on the towel tucked at her waist and held it out politely “Congratulations, are you a local then?”

Crowley leaned forward to shake briefly “Nah, London.”

Flustered by the less than enthusiastic response, Ally smiled quickly at Newt “Well, you lads enjoy your lunch then” and bustled out.  
  
**************************************  
  
The platter was indeed hearty, four cheeses, salty crackers, rich farmhouse butter, generous slices of ham, mustard, chutney, good sourdough bread and a red shiny apple cut into slices. Enough food for at least two hungry people.

Crowley took a photo and text it to Anathema _When you need a break, show him this_

She replied _Cheers, prolly 30 min_

They ate their way through the first pass at the platter in companionable silence, Crowley appreciated someone who was comfortable with quiet, and relaxed into the sofa, the heat and the cider working its magic.  
  
He sighed and took his glasses off “Fuck, look if this gets too” _random handwave thingy_ “annoying whatsit, just, well, let me know. Kay?”

Newt leaned forward to take a healthy swallow of his cider “He loves you very much, you know.”

“Yeah, I do”

“That’s why he wants everything to be perfect. It’s his way of showing how he feels.”

Crowley blinked at this rather accurate assessment of his angel “M’OK with wanting it to be perfect, it’s the bloody worrying about every bloody detail that’s……..”

“Bloody annoying?” said Newt in a terrible parody of Crowleys accent. The demon threw a slice of apple at him “Thanks.”

Newt crunched thoughtfully on the apple slice “Can I say something? It’s probably a bit personal, but Anathema told me a bit about …. Stuff. I know you have known each other forever”

“Literally” muttered the demon.

“But you are both new to the whole relationship ……thing….”

Crowley wasn’t sure where this was going “Not human remember, angel and demon.”

A pair of brown eyes looked at him steadily “I think you are far more human than you realise” which was a truth the demon couldn’t really argue with.  
  
“I need more alcohol, hang on” he aimed a thought at the direction of the bar, and Ally bustled in with another couple of pints of cider a few minutes later, clearing away the empties.

Crowley had donned his glasses, took them off again, and sighed “Alright, shoot.”

Newt flicked a glance up at the demon, glanced away, gathering his thoughts “Aziraphale is trying so hard, because he feels guilty, or insecure about how long it took for him to commit himself to your relationship. Pretty sure its entirely unconscious, but I’m guessing it’s a big issue for him. He’s just not expressing it well.”

Crowley felt that like a punch to the gut “Shit, kid I think you are bang on the money there.”

Newt let out a breath and relaxed visibly “Oooh good, didn’t stuff that up then” then he stiffened as the demon fixed him with a steely gaze.  
  
“What about me then?”

Newt chewed his lip nervously “Want me to be completely honest?” and Crowley nodded.

“You worship the ground he walks on, you literally do anything he wants to make him happy. But you spent so long hiding how you felt, that you don’t really do feelings. He needs the reassurance, to know how you feel about him. He needs to hear it, out loud, I think. As often as possible, probably.”

Another punch to the gut “That’s remarkably insightful. Distressingly accurate too, I think.”

Newt shrugged “Like I said, more human than you realise.”

Crowley slugged back half his pint “So, what do I do about it?” he asked the other man, who grinned at him quite cheerfully.  
  
“How good are you at facing your own demons?”

“Shit.”

Crowleys phone chirped _On our way, order me a VERY large cider pls!_

_***********************************************  
_They stayed the night at the cottage, the spare room was miracled twice as big, single bed becoming a king and Crowley kept his promise about the hangover cure for both Newt and Anathema.

A hearty brunch at the pub that they lingered over chatting, until Crowley stood, jangled the car keys “C’mon angel, time to go” and they exchanged a long look.  
  
Aziraphale smiled “Of course my dear, these young people must have much to do”, Crowley settled up the bill and they all walked out to the waiting Bentley.

The angel pressed a kiss to the back of Anathema’s hand “Thank you my dear girl” making her laugh. Crowley and Newt looked at each other for a long moment, Newt smiled shyly as Crowley said gruffly “Thanks” clasping a narrow hand on Newt’s shoulder briefly as he walked round to the drivers side.  
  
As the Bentley roared away, the young couple looked at each other and Newt said slowly “How bad could it be?”

Anathema groaned “Go on rub it in” grabbed his hand, leading the way back to the cottage “So what was that about, you and Crowley?”

Newt shrugged “Oh we talked a bit. Got to know each other. He’s alright.”

*********************************************  
  
“Did you talk to her? About wards and stuff?” 

Aziraphale sighed “I did, and she agrees we are right to be concerned. She had some interesting ideas. We are going to do the email.”

Crowley snorted “Email each other, angel”

“You were right about the village, Adam has it well protected but it will fade over time. If he doesn’t keep it active.”

“Can he still do that?”

“No idea, dearest. We should probably arrange to see him next time we are in Tadfield.”

**********************************************  
  
_Later that night, at the bookshop_

“Come to bed, angel?”

Aziraphale looked at the freshly showered sleepwear clad demon “Bit early my dear?”

“Mmmmm wanna talk…..about stuff”

Their time at the manor dealing with each others issues had given them a good basis for communication, but it was unlike Crowley to initiate a personal discussion. Aziraphale put a bookmark in his place, laid his book down, reading glasses on top.  
  
“Right behind you my love”

Crowley slid into bed while the angel pottered in the bathroom, appearing in his ridiculous tartan pyjamas that never failed to want to make the demon roll his eyes. One dim lamp threw the room into an intimate cosy space.

The angel climbed into bed, took a long look at his husband, and snuggled up, pillowing his head on one bony shoulder, pressing a kiss to the nearest bit of skin he could reach. They lay in silence, hands intertwined over the demons chest, who idly ran his thumb over the angels palm as he thought.

_Shit, this is going to be hard_

“It doesn’t need to be perfect” he ground out “The wedding. Traditional in fact for it all to go horribly wrong at the last minute.”

He pressed a kiss to wayward blond curls “It would be nice to ….enjoy the day. But its hard to do that when you……worry so much. About everything.”

He sighed “It upsets me to see you unhappy. But I can’t fix every damn thing in the universe, angel. We are on earth, and somethings things just happen, good, bad or otherwise and we have to roll with the punches.”

He lifted the angelic hand intertwined with his, pressing kisses across the plump knuckles “I love you angel, not gonna love you any less if its not perfect.”

His angel sighed “I just wanted it to be special, to make you happy.”

“I know love, but you are missing the point”

“Which is?”

Lifting his shoulder up, Crowley tucked a pillow under the blond head, and levered himself up on his side, looking fondly down at Aziraphale, smiling before dropping down for a kiss, that heated up quickly as the angel moaned, opening to him eagerly.

“The point is…… all I have ever needed is you. All I want is you, here, like this, next to me” he went in for another kiss “I dreamed of this for so bloody long, its never going to get old, you hear me?”

He twitched as a pair of angelic hands slid up under his tshirt, lifting it up to his shoulders, with hot kisses pressed wherever the angel could reach. Taking the hint Crowley wriggled out of the tshirt, yelping with surprise as his arse was firmly grabbed

“Hey!”

Aziraphale growled, a deep throaty purr, pulling the demon down on top of him, one hand firmly grinding their hips together, the other stroking up the long elegant back, to tangle in the hair at the nape of the demons neck, bringing him in for a deep hungry kiss

Crowley panted into his mouth “Angel?” gasping as the hips under his rolled up in urgent demand

Pupils blown so wide, the angel pulled one of his power moves, and flipped them, diving in for a slow, yearning kiss, driving his hips in an equally slow and entirely unsubtle rhythm. Aziraphale liked to be in control, but he also liked to take his time, this hard fast demand was unlike him. Crowley was loving it.  
  
“Oh god angel, just, _fuck_, yes _harder!_”

Hoarsely the angel spoke into the column of his throat “Crowley, stop talking”

With a blink, all their sleep clothes were gone, and one fine angelic arse was firmly grabbed as the demon rolled his own hips up, causing the angel to catch his breath “Make me” the demon challenged.

“Oh, I intend to” reaching down between them, hand suddenly slick, a slow firm glide that had the demon moaning bonelessly under him, the hotsuck of his mouth reducing Crowley to handclenching, writhing gasps, pants and breathless moans. The angel drove him over the edge with an urgency that left them both wrung out.

_The next day he sent a text to Newt: So, you weren’t wrong……_

_Newt replied: No details pls!_

_Crowley: _ _LOL _

_Crowley: Talk more next time?_

_Newt: Lunch = therapy?_

_Crowley: Im paying either way_

_Newt: Fair enough_


	11. A Fateful Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letters from Heaven and Hell finally get opened and a fateful meeting is held. Some uncomfortable truths are shared and Gabriel has difficulty realigning his world view.

** _3 months after they left the Manor in Cornwall_ **

“Make sure you check all the drawers Lisa, those bloody kids have probably chucked half the cutlery and god knows what in there.”

“Little shits” muttered Judith under her breath. The latest visitors had four unruly children with no respect for anything, rampaging through the house like holy terrors. They had managed to make a horrendous mess in all five of the bathrooms in the place. Judith would be sending the management a hefty bill for their extra cleaning time.

“Jude…..” Lisa called out in an odd tone “Can you look at this?”

“What, love?” she said to her daughter. Lisa held out two very fancy envelopes, one crisp white, engraved in gold calligraphy. The other black, embossed with black wax, trailing black ribbons.  
  
The white one was address to Aziraphale, Earth Guardian. The black one was addressed to Crowley, Unfallen, Earth Guardian.

The two women looked at each other in confusion “Well we know who _they_ are, what the hell does the Earth Guardian bit mean?” asked Lisa.

Judith picked up the white envelope, feeling the heavy texture of the obviously expensive paper and made up her mind “Not our problem, love. Put them in a courier envelope and send to management. They will have an address to send on to Himself.”

** _One month later, the envelope arrives at Crowley’s business manager_ **

It sat, collecting dust in a pile with the other ‘personal’ correspondence that his business manager would eventually get around to sending on. Crowley had trained his manager well enough to filter out the important stuff and deal with that urgently. She thought these were either a joke or an invite to a themed party.

** _Six weeks later, they are delivered to Crowleys private mail box_ **

** _They sit for another two months until Crowley gets around to visiting._ **

He flicks through it, opens the obviously important stuff and chucks the rest in the passenger seat of the Bentley. Eventually it lands on his desk upstairs in the bookstore flat.

** _A month later_ **

Aziraphale needed to do something, he was so fidgety. The wedding plans were well underway. Anathema had everything under control, the final preparations would be made when the time was right. The angel had nothing to do except fret, and Crowley was down working on the cottage so he was home alone.

He spotted the large pile of discarded mail on Crowley’s desk that the demon claimed to be getting around to opening, and decided to sort it for him. Anything obviously private or business related he left alone, leaving him with some random white envelopes that were obviously either bills or invoices and a plump padded envelope with Crowleys name on it.  
  
Carefully he pulled the tear tag open and let the contents fall onto the desk. His heart stopped at the sight of the envelopes from Heaven and Hell, the memory of Crowley throwing them into a drawer after they were delivered. A lot of champagne and ….celebrating their wedding…. had happened over the next week. Clearly the envelopes had been forgotten for nearly ten months. Carefully, with the letter knife, he opened his.

_Greetings to Aziraphale, Guardian of Earth from the Host of Heaven._

_Archangel Gabriel sends his felicitations on your nuptials, and congratulates you on your new position. He would be grateful for the opportunity to discuss the Earth situation with her Guardians, regarding the ongoing future relationship with Heaven._  
  
_ We will await your reply with pleasure._  
  
_ Archangel Gabriel (whose signature was unreasonably large and pretentious)_

Aziraphale was astonished that they had clearly waited patiently for a reply and not followed up, but his hands were shaking as he dialled the number for the demons cell phone. This was going to be interesting.

************************************  
Crowley was not pleased nor inclined to allow Gabriel anywhere near his angel, but eventually an agreement had been made. A very curt note with only a date, an address and a time had been sent to both parties.

The work they had been doing with Anathema around warding and spellwork was put to good use, plus a few other surprises they had up their sleeves.

An exclusive rooftop bar in Los Vegas had been booked out by the demon for the day. The meeting was for scheduled for the evening. One table was arranged with four seats around it in the middle of the space, a small elegant arrangement of flowers around a fat white candle in the center of the table.

Crowley and Aziraphale sat on their side of the table, glasses of champagne in front of them, waiting patiently. They were early.

The demon frowned at his glass “D’you think Gabriel will be a prat and arrive early, or a rude prat and be really late?”

His angel smiled “I think its safe to say Gabriel will be a prat.” He preened under the approving smile of his demon.

“My lovely bastard angel” murmured Crowley, pressing a kiss to the blond curls.

“Hhhhmmmm” interrupted a smug American ‘pay attention to me as I clear my throat very obviously’ voice. They turned to see Gabriel standing annoyingly near the table, the flustered waiter (who had instructions to delay him til Beelzebub turned up) hovering nearby.  
  
Arm slung casually around Aziraphale’s shoulders, Crowley glared at Gabriel in intense dislike “For someone so insistent about everyone else following rules, you disregard them as it suits you. Apparently.” The demons voice was hard enough to rate on the Mohr scale,

The archangel had the grace to look, not ashamed as such, but at least, slightly embarrassed. They had worked hexes into the surface of the rooftop to stop their visitors appearing as it suited them, instead forcing them to use the human entrance and come up the elevator. Gabriel was clearly peeved about it.

Ungraciously Crowley waved a hand to the chairs opposite them “Alright, take a seat.”

Glaring at the demon, Gabriel strode to the one opposite Aziraphale, grabbing the back to yank it out, and stopping in surprise as it didn’t move a whisker. He pulled again, now glaring down at the chair. Crowley leaned back with a smirk “S’not going to move mate, take the other one.”

Still glaring at Crowley, the archangel did as he was told, fussily arranging his hands, fingers entwined on the table in front of him. So focussed on himself, he startled when Aziraphale said quietly “Hello Gabriel.”

With his typical self righteous expression, Gabriel replied with a veneer of politeness “Aziraphale” and paused before adding with a mocking tone “Guardian.”

_“You were right my dear” mindspoke the angel to Crowley “He is going to be an utter prat. This should be fun!”_

_“Stick to the plan, angel. Find out what they want first.”_

An unexpected side effect of their Holy Union was the ability to mindspeak each other. It only worked at close distance and required a lot of concentration, but for moments like this it was a valuable weapon at their disposal. One no one else knew about.

Crowley was happy to let the now uncomfortable silence stretch out, watching Gabriel fidget under the judgemental stare coming from behind a pair of designer sunglasses. The arrival of the waiter and Beelzebub broke the tension as the Prince of Hell eyed up the scene, bowed in a shallow but formal bow to their direction saying politely “Guardianzz.”

Aziraphale nodded and gestured “Welcome Your Disgrace, please, be seated.” Gabriel twitched as the Prince of Hell easily slid the seat back and sat tidily in it.

The hovering waiter said nervously “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Beelzebub glanced briefly at the Archangel “He will have a G&T with a zzslice of lime, I’ll have a ZZSlippery Nipple.”

“Very good. I’ll bring some water for the table.”

Crowley drawled “Still trying to find the most disgusting cocktail on Earth, Beelzebub?”

They raised an eyebrow briefly “Zzzshame that absinthe has fallen out of favour.”

Aziraphale smiled “Oh its still around, but it’s a lot less…..fatal…. than it used to be.”

“Ah the good old dayzzzz”

Silence reigned as the very nervous waiter dropped four glasses of water around the table, leaving a full glass jug behind. Tension soured the air, it was clear to any bystanders that this was not a friendly meeting.

Gabriel sighed loudly, clearly wanting attention. Crowley ignored him “So, you wanted to….consult? Parley? Negotiate? Chat about the weather?”

The Archangel and Prince of Hell glanced at each other, Beelzebub nodded slightly “We wanted to talk about Earth. About our acceszz to it.”

Aziraphale said calmly “You don’t have access any more.”

Gabriel sighed huffily “Yes that’s why we want to talk about it. So you can fix it.”

He took a sip of his water, screwed his face up “Disgusting” and pushed the glass away “Gross matter.”

“No.” said Crowley carelessly.

Gabriel frowned at him in confusion “What?”

“No. We aren’t going to fix it. Heaven and Hell are no longer welcome on Earth.” The demon smirked at the outraged look on Gabriel’s face.

Aziraphale chimed in “Not until you prove that you can play *nicely* with each other. And humanity.”

Gabriel and Beelzebub exchanged another glance.

_“Looks like we aren’t the only angel and demon working together…”_

_“I did wonder, back at the Airbase. They seemed rather comfortable with each other”_

_“Do you think they….?”_

_“Crowley!”_

Gabriel stood up angrily “You don’t have the right to stop us! I demand you fix this!!!”

Aziraphale looked up at the Archangel, slowly his blue eyes began to blaze with power. When he spoke his voice resonated with arcane harmonies “Behaving like a petulant child? Is this what the leader of the Heavenly Host amounts too? SIT DOWN GABRIEL.”

Gabriel sat, visibly quaking, unable to resist the power of command in the angels voice. He opened his mouth to speak, but the small white hand of the Prince of Hell gripped his forearm with a powerful white knuckled grip.

They held on firmly until Gabriel subsided “Pleazzz, explain. What do you mean by ‘playing nizzzely?”

Crowley asked “How many souls does Heaven and Hell have now?”

Gabriel and Beezlebub shrugged “Millionzzz probably, we don’t keep count.”

Aziraphale asked “Are you still getting souls from Earth?”

Two nods from the leaders of Heaven and Hell “Of course we are. But now its all a result of” Gabriel screwed his face up in disgust “Free will.”

Taking a long sip from his champagne, the angel eyed their old bosses “What exactly do you do with the souls you house?” He waved a hand “I know they go to their individual Heaven and Hellscapes for eternity. But given they are still arriving, and will continue to, what difference does it make HOW they arrive? Free will was ordained for Humanity by Her Will. Who are you to argue with that?”

Gabriel turned a rather fetching shade of purple, such was his anger “But! But!! How DARE YOU?? How Dare You Question ME?”

Idly Crowley reached out a hand and touched a fingertip to the glass of water Gabriel had discarded. He briefly closed his eyes and murmured a Blessing over it and did the same to the jug of water. Raising one hand he lifted half the water out of the jug into the air, held it there as he manipulated the chemistry of it, froze it into square icecubes, letting them fall back into the jug with barely a splash. He tilted his head to Beelzebub and murmured “I suggest you don’t drink that.” They nodded in reply.

To Gabriel he said “Try the water now, I’m sure its much more to your taste.”

Reluctantly the Archangel did as he was told, taking only the tiniest sip and gasping “Holy Water! Impossible!”

Aziraphale reached out a hand, snapping finger and thumb, lighting the tip of one finger alight with Hellfire, its distinctive brimstone smell unmistakable. He lit the candle arranged within the flowers, before raising the smoky flaming finger to his lips, and blowing it out theatrically. Beelzebub reached out and held a pale finger in the flame for a long moment.

The angel replied forcefully to Gabriel “We dare question everybody, up to and including Her. She gave us her Blessing. Personally. Who are you to question US?”

Crowley leaned forward, noting with pleasure that Gabriel leaned unconsciously back “They keep score, angel. With the souls. They keep score against each other. It’s a game. One they play using humanity as pawns.”

Aziraphale stood, held a hand out to Crowley who took it and stood beside him. They let a hint of their power leak through as the angel said in that resonant voice again “No longer will you toy with humanity. Show you are willing to live in peace and harmony with each other. Prove you deserve the right to fraternise with humanity. Earn it.”

With a blink the two were gone, leaving a ringing silence behind.

Very quickly the waiter left the two drinks he had prepared, waiting for the right moment to deliver them and dashed back to the safety of the bar.

“Fuck!” said Gabriel, and swallowed down half his G&T “Was it real hellfire?”

The Prince nodded “Yezz. Holy Water?”

“The Holiest. Utter bastard.”

“Did you feel how zzzstrong they were?”

Gabriel downed the rest of his drink and eyed up the rather unpleasant looking cocktail in front of the Prince of Hell. They pushed it over and he sculled it “That’s disgusting!”

They smiled at him “Yezzz but after a few you don’t notice.”

Beelzebub looked thoughtful for a moment “Who wazzz he, before he Fell?”

Gabriel looked up from his contemplation of the empty glasses “What? Why?”

“Did you zzsee what he did to the water? He manipulated the raw matter directly. Didn’t miracle it. That takezz power and knowledge.”

The Archangel stared in horror “You realise what that means…..”

Beelzebub nodded “Yezz I do” they waved a hand to summon the waiter “More drinkzzz pleazzz.”

Gabriel closed his eyes “Going to need a LOT more drinks for this.”

********************************************************

_The listening spell that had been activated by Aziraphale lighting the candle in the flowers carried on sharing the increasingly drunken rantings of the Archangel until eventually they got bored with listening._

Crowley was smug with satisfaction. He knew that Gabriel would try something, the stupid stubborn arrogant arsehole. But he had been given fair warning what he was up against. Crowley had always had the most astonishing imagination. Now he had the power to make his very thoughts a reality.

Gabriel was in for a nasty surprise. Eventually.

Beelzebub sent a note a few days later,

_Guardians of Earth. The Prince of Hell invites you to dine, and discuss further clarifications around the ‘playing nice’ concept. We understand the Ritz is an appropriate venue for such discussion. Please advise an appropriate date and time. We are at your convenience._  
  
_Beelzebub._

Aziraphale looked at Crowley who shrugged “Up to you angel.”

“I’m curious” said Aziraphale “They make Gabriel listen to them. I think we should.”

“Anything you like, angel.”


	12. Lunch At the Ritz with The Prince of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub has many questions. Interesting questions. About love, relationships and why a demon loves an angel....

** _At the Ritz, 3 weeks later_ **

The Prince of Hell was waiting for them at a quiet table in the far corner of the Ritz. No other diners were sat at the nearby tables, Crowley smiled in appreciation of the privacy. Beelzebub rose at their arrival, bowed that polite formal bow “Guardianzzz, pleazze, join me.”

Aziraphale bowed back murmuring “Your Disgrace” as he pulled a chair, seating himself neatly, smiling fondly at Crowley who lounged in his. The demon nodded at his old boss “Beelzebub.”

The hum of the clientele talking, cutlery clinking on plates, pops of champagne bottles and the musical background of classical music filled the restaurant. Smartly clad wait staff in black and white whisked with smiling efficiency between the tables. It was a familiar space, and they relaxed. Just a bit.

The ever polite staff swept in, wine orders were taken and delivered, lunch orders were taken, eventually a neutral silence reigned. Crowley sighed, looked at the angel and shrugged. He turned to the Prince and asked “Well?”

They toyed with the stem of their wineglass for a moment “It seemzzz we must apologizzze. To you both.”

“For thinking you knew the Ineffable Plan? For trying to destroy the world? Or for trying to kill us?” Aziraphale was using his pissed off bastard voice, it pleased him to see the Prince of Hell flinch at the questions.

“We mizzzcalculated a great deal. Heaven and Hell. Mistakezz were made” a shrug of small shoulders “You could have had your retribution. We appreciate that you didn’t.”

The angel blinked “Oh! Well. Yes. But, I never…..”

“I did, angel, consider it” the demon smiled that lazy shit eating grin that he knew utterly annoyed Beelzebub “Decided it wasn’t worth it.”

The Prince narrowed their eyes at Crowley “Why not?”

Crowley reached out and laced his fingers with the angels, pressing a kiss to the back of the angelic hand “All we wanted was to be left alone, to live here on this world, in peace. We have that now, why would I risk everything for petty vengeance?”

“Besides” he smirked “Watching Gabriel being told No and having to take it? Fuck that’s satisfying. Never gets old!”

“Crowley” admonished the angel.  
  
“Oh you love it, just as much angel” the prim expression on the angels face didn’t hide the blush, he darted a tiny smirk in the demons direction “Well I would never say it where anyone could hear, of course.”

Conversation lapsed as the waiters bought in their first course and they turned their attention to the food.

******************************************

They lingered over dessert. Beelzebub had a rather eclectic approach to food which made the angel wince more than once (and it scandalised the wait staff) but they appeared to enjoy their food, and more importantly, kept their opinions to themself. So everyone was mostly happy. Even if tomato sauce had been requested to accompany their dessert as an icecream topping.  
  
“I hear you are having a human czeremony, to czelebrate your marriage?” Crowley sighed as the angel perked up  
  
“Oh yes, its very exciting. Not long now, is it my dear?”

“Why?” asked Beelzebub.

“It’s a symbol of our commitment to Earth and humanity. To our friends” Crowley looked at his angel who was in raptures over his chocolate mousse “To each other.”

“You love him.” It was both a statement and a question.

Had the demon been aware of the tiny soft smile that his mouth framed when he looked at his husband, he would have been horrified “More than anything.”

“Why. You were enemiezzz?”

Crowley shrugged “He was a bad angel, I was a crappy demon. He was kind, generous and a bit of a bastard. He thought I was capable of good, so I wanted to be good for him. He gave me …..hope.”

“For what?”

“A better life. Freedom. Love.”

The Princes face showed a series of emotions, too quick to catch, before smoothing out to the quietly attentive look they had worn for the evening.

“And…. He loves you?”

Aziraphale, blue eyes glowing with inner fire “With everything I am, for eternity. If he will have me.”

“Always, angel.” They smiled like idiots at each other, the newly wed bliss had not worn off after nearly a year of marriage, apparently.

Beelzebub coughed after the moment stretched embarrassingly long when you are the third wheel at the table. Both husbands blushed fetchingly. They thought it was cute.

“Izz this what you mean, by learning to play nizzely with others?”

Crowley choked on his champagne “Other angels and demons falling in love? Well…. Not exactly”

Beezlebub frowned, sitting back in their chair. Aziraphale said quietly “You can’t have a war if everyone is on the same side. Or at the very least, not on completely opposing sides. There is good and evil in both angels and demons. What might happen if they took the time to get to know each other? Instead of making blind assumptions and judgements?”

“Gabriel will not like it.”

“Gabriel is a fucking hypocrite. Tell me I’m wrong.”

A small smile flickered briefly on their mouth “You are not.”

_See angel, I told you…..they are fraternising!_

_Oh Good Lord!_

“So, figure it out. When Heaven and Hell can coexist peacefully, then you can learn to treat humanity with respect as well” Crowley smiled toothily “We’ve got….all the time in the world..”

Beelzebub nodded “I have much to consider. Thankyou.” Crowley twitched violently, words he never thought the Prince of Hell even had in their vocabulary.

“C’mon angel, time to go.”

“Yes my dear, time for your nap.”

“It’s always time for a nap.”

“Thankyou for lunch, Your Disgrace” said the angel politely.

“Pleazz just Beelzebub.”

The angel smiled, pleased “As you wish” and dipped forward into a small bow.  
  
“One moment, before you go. I have a favour to azzk?”

“Yes?”

“Your human wedding czeremony. May I attend?”

Crowley frowned “Why?”

They pursed their lips “I’m curiouszz.”

“We’ll think about it”

“Thankyou.”

Crowley twitched again, twice in one day!

***************************************  
Thoughtful silence filled the Bentley as they drove back to the bookshop

“Well, that was a thing” drawled the demon.  
  
“Did you get the impression there was more behind all the questions? About us?”

“Fuck yes. Subtext all over the bloody place.”

“Well. Maybe they will lead by example?”

“God knows!”

“Actually my dear, I’m not at all certain that She does, with those two.”

“Fair point.”

“They listened though. And asked questions. That’s….hopeful?”

“It’s a start, angel.”


	13. The Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley indulges in some gardening, The Them get a lesson on sword fighting, and Crowley has a chat with Adam.

** _A week after the last visit to Tadfield_ **

Crowley pulled a heavy duty orange plastic toolbox out of the back of the Bentley, much to Newts amusement.

“I thought we were gardening?” The day was sunny but chilly, Newt was bundled in a warm jacket, scarf and gloves, his glasses beginning to steam up.

“Gardening requires tools. This is a tool box” Crowley shrugged as he placed it on the bench and opened the locks, revealing shiny sharp looking secateurs, a hand trowel, well used gardening gloves and some other stuff Newt couldn’t identify.

“Soil testing kits, pH, NPK. The important stuff a garden needs.”

“NPK?”

“Nitrogen, Phosphorous and Potassium.”

“…..right”

“All proper witches need a garden full of ingredients. Not doing the sodding wedding planning, but I can help with the garden” the demon shrugged “Give us an excuse to be outside.”

Newt looked at his breath pluming in the morning air “Well, it’s a nice day for it” only sounding slightly dubious.

Crowley grinned at him “Just remember, I’m buying lunch. Right, where’s the tool shed?”

*****************************************  
One trip to the local garden center later, they were sprinkling fertilizer and random chemicals on different patches of the garden, depending on what the results of the testing kits provided.

Most of the garden had died down for the winter season, but it was in dire need of a good tidy up. Both flowers and vegetables had gone to seed, weeds filling in the gaps. Crowley patiently explained what they were doing and why to Newt, as they trimmed, pruned and tied back various unidentifiable plants.

Slowly the pile of cuttings and weeds got bigger as they moved around the garden, doing all the easy stuff, tidying the garden to put it to bed for the winter. Crowley sank his power into the soil, looking at what was under the surface, giving it a boost and a nudge here and there. A bit of extra drainage in one corner, redirecting the extra moisture further down where it was needed.

They reached the vege garden, pulling out all the bamboo canes supporting the beans and peas that were nothing but dried crunchy stems. A large patch of rhubarb in one corner got a trim, and some silverbeet that had gone to seed got dug out.

Newt was leaning on the spade, waiting for Crowley to work his magic with the soil testers when The Them arrived. They were regular visitors to the cottage, piling their bikes to lean up against the seat, chattering and laughing as they followed Adam through the garden.

Typically it was Pepper who spoke first “You’re him!”

“From the airbase” chimed Brian. Wensleydale chewed nervously on a fingernail and Adam looked thoughtful.

“Crowley? Right? The angels husband.”

Not looking at the kids, Crowley growled “Maybe he’s my husband” The Them looked at each other and shrugged, such semantics were beyond them.  
  
Newt said “Anathema is planning their wedding. Aziraphale’s inside with her, but they are busy.”

Pepper stomped up to Newt in her red gumboots “Sounds boring. What’s he doing?” she tilted her head at the demon, who was shaking up soil samples.

“Chemistry” said the demon with a sigh. He sat crosslegged on the damp ground, waiting for the test tubes to change colour “Why?”

She shrugged “Adam wanted to come, so we came too.”

Crowley put his sunglasses down “Let me guess, you are bored now?” Three small heads nodded “Newt how about you put them to work?” when they groaned Crowley continued “If you pull all the weeds out of the back garden and add them to the pile, I will let you set it on fire. In about an hour. Deal?”

Frantic discussion amongst the three children, Pepper turned to Crowley and announced “Deal.”

“Come on you lot” Newt herded them with his spade round the back of the cottage while Crowley turned to Adam.  
  
“Hey kid, we need to talk.”

“You look happy. Happy but worried.”

“Yeah” he ran a hand over his face “That’s why we need to talk. Have a seat.”

Adam sat, and the demon quietly, seriously began to talk.

**********************************************

Twisting long strands of grass round his fingers, Adam frowned “I told them to stop messing around with people. Like ‘Told’ told them?”

“Mmm but ‘messing around’ is pretty vague. Leaves lots of loopholes. Gabriel will use all of them, if he thinks he can get away with it.”

“But he can’t hurt you or Aziraphale any more?”

Crowley twitched his shoulders “Honestly kid, I really don’t want to test that theory out. That’s not who we are worried about. Its..”

“Your human friends. He can hurt you by hurting them. Us.”

“Yeah.” The demon looked at Adam intently “You aren’t entirely human though, are you?”

Adam looked at him with guileless clear greyblue eyes, far more adult than any eleven year old boy should have to be “Not entirely. But I try very hard to be mostly human.”

Crowley laughed bitterly “Yeah, well humans struggle with that every day, in my experience.”

“I can’t do much, to help and stuff.”

Crowley reached out and ruffled the boys mussed blond hair “Yeah kiddo, I know. Not asking you to. Just be aware. Call us if you feel anything weird, anytime. Numbers on your phone. Do the others remember …..everything?” he nodded at the other three children, now armed with bamboo canes, pretending they were swords or lightsabers or something.

“Some of it, not the scary stuff. Enough to know that something big happened and it was about me. They know I’m special, but they always have.”

The air rang with the whack of wood against wood, yells of triumph, cries of ‘cheating’, sounds of children laughing and having fun. Such simple human pleasures, an imagination and a friend to share it with, it made the demons heart hurt to know how close it had all come to ending.

A small hand on his arm “Crowley?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I give you a hug?”

The demon swallowed “….Alright” and Adam shuffled forward on his knees and leaned in for a brief tight hug. He said quietly in the demons ear “I don’t know if anyone said this, but thankyou. Thankyou for saving the world.”

Crowleys breath stopped for a moment, only a handful of people knew what had happened. Most of them were confused by the events, and the others blamed him for what happened. No one had ever acknowledged that it was a good thing that Armageddon had been thwarted.

“S’OK kid, but please, don’t make me do it again, hey?” his arms tightened around the boy briefly, and then let go with a push “Go on, play with your friends. Its two against one, and the boys have no chance against Pepper.”

With a cheeky smile, Adam rushed over to his friends, collecting his own bamboo weapon, joining in the fray with a warcry. Newt plopped himself on the grass next to Crowley and squinted “You are making sure they don’t hurt themselves, aren’t you?”

Crowley had in fact strengthened the brittle bamboo canes so they didn’t shatter, and made sure that faces and fragile fingers were safe, but he rolled his eyes “Not seriously. Free will and all that.”

Topaz snake eyes narrowed “Though if they keep waving around like that……” he raised his voice “Oi, its not bloody Hollywood. Those are rapiers, not broadswords.”

Pepper tossed hair out of her eyes “Whats a rapier?” surprisingly Wensleydale answered “It’s a kind of sword, long and pointy. They have competitions with them with those funny masks.”

“Fencing” said New unexpectedly “But they don’t use a rapier.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow “Not these days, but that’s how it started, originally”. Four expectant faces crowded round “Can you show us then?”

“How to fight properly?” that was Pepper of course.

That’s what he got for opening his mouth “Not by myself, hang on.”

_Angel? Have you got 10 minutes?_  
  
_ What do you need dearest?_

_Ummm…..I need your help._

_????_

_With a demonstration._

_????_

_Sword fighting. Rapier. For the kids._

_The Them are here?_

_Yes, will you come?_

_Well, we could do with a break. Perhaps a little demonstration. It’s been a while._

_For both of us. C’mon, it’ll be fun_

Aziraphale and Anathema emerged from the cottage, blinking in the bright sunlight. Despite the chilly start, it had turned into a nice day, for early winter anyway. 

“Hey kids” Anathema smiled at the four children, while Aziraphale nodded formally “Hello children.”

Brian said excitedly “Are you going to show us how to fight with real swords?”

Flustered the angel turned to Crowley who had levered himself upright, asking “Tourney, Shakespeare or Errol Flynn?”

The demon picked up a bamboo cane and swished it “Oh Shakespeare I think, the Tybalt and Mercutio scene?” He blinked at the cane and it became a rapier, dull metal wider at the hilt, narrowing to a point, straight quillions surrounded by a weave of metal guard for the hand. It wasn’t flashy or ornate, but spare and functional. Very much a weapon, not a toy.

“Take your jacket off angel, and your bow tie.” With a frown the angel complied then turned to the audience, saying firmly “Everyone sit down. And stay down. This is live steel and dangerous. We have to concentrate. Understand?”

Four wriggling children sat with Newt at one side and Anathema at the other. Crowley and Aziraphale walked over to some clear ground, both rolled their sleeves up. The angel had armed himself with a rapier as well, a little shorter and heavier than Crowleys. 

They circled each other, getting a feel for the footing, before settling into a fencing stance, facing each other. Aziraphale very upright but balanced lightly on his feet, the demon leaning a little forward, taking advantage of his extra height.

Crowley said “I am for you!” and feinted forward.

Aziraphale replied “Come, sir, your passado!”

Quickly, lightly they engaged, a very different style to the flashy fight scenes choreographed in the movies. Blades darting in, out, flickering fast. The clang of metal engaging, the scrape of one blade rasping against another.

The audience watched entranced as the two men, now warmed up, smiling, began to move faster, feet dancing as they darted in, out, around each other. Crowley moved lightning fast, flashy jabs and parries, feinting but Aziraphales bright blue eyes blazed as he countered every move, holding his ground, until with an unexpected twist of the wrist he slid his blade underneath the demons guard, the point skittering off his side, skewering a hole in the demons shirt.

“Point!” cried the angel.

“Bloody hell angel, that’s my favourite shirt” groused the demon.

Breathing heavily they turned to the audience, and with a flourish of blades, bowed to loud cheers and clapping. As the children surged forward, the blades disappeared, leaving bamboo canes in their wake.

“Show us how to do that!” cried four voices much to the angels alarm. Crowley smiled at the children clustered around him.  
  
“Next time, maybe. Right now, its time for lunch.” Over four excited children all talking at once he said “Yes, we will come back. In a few weeks.”

Newt rounded them up “Off you go, you lot.”

Pepper stopped in front of the angel and stared seriously up at him “You protect, don’t you?”

He smiled down at her “Yes dear girl, I do.”

“I want to do that too, will you teach me?” he threw a desperate glance at Crowley who shrugged and replied “Next time.”

She smiled brightly at both of them, ran off in her red gumboots after the boys, chattering excitedly as they untangled their bikes and headed off home.

“Well, that was a thing” Crowley sounded a bit dazed and Anathema laughed.

“Yes they are a bit of a handful, but good kids.”

“Yeah, they are.”

*******************************************  
**_In the Bentley on the way home_**

“Did you talk to Adam, dearest?”

“Yeah, bought him up to speed. Nice kid. Not entirely human though.”

The angel looked concerned “Is that a ….problem?”

Crowley thought for a minute “Nah, he knows what he is, and what he wants to be. Who he wants to be.”

“Which is?”

The demon smiled “Himself angel, he wants to be himself, whatever that looks like.”

“Free will my dear.”

“Yup. A curse and a blessing.”


	14. Anathema Reads The Riot Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema reads the Riot Act to Crowley, a lost waif finds their way to the bookshop, the Ineffable Husbands take her in, and Crowley hatches a plan to distract his angel from fussing over the wedding plans.

** _Three Days Later_ **

Crowleys phone did the ‘you have a text’ chirp, waking him from a nap. Aziraphale generally only used his cellphone for what he considered a dire emergency, so Crowley muzzily looked at the screen.

Book Girl: we need to talk

HellBoy: call u l8r

He went back to sleep. Three hours later his phone rang but this time it was his Angel

“Mmmmff Hi Angel”

“I know you are probably sleeping dearest, but I just wanted to remind you we had dinner reservations. Its raining and traffic will be a nightmare, so wanted to make sure you were awake.”

The demon groaned “Mmmph right, M’wake”

“See you soon darling boy” which perked Crowley right up, his angel was in a frisky mood tonight, apparently. He slid out from under the heavy black sheets, his only thought for a long hot shower.

He had another text from Anathema while he was in the shower, bugger forgot about that.

Book Girl: ???

Dialing her number, he put her on speaker while he got dressed and finessed his hair.

“Hey Book Girl, whats the haps?” there was a startled silence on the other end of the call

“Are you high?”

He grinned at the phone “Never can tell some days.”

She snorted “That would explain a lot, actually. Have you got time to talk?”

Ooooh time, he strapped on his Devon “Bout ten minutes, sup?”

Anathema sighed “Crowley, what did you and Aziraphale do before?”

“Before what?”

“Before you ……retired?”

“Oh well, temptations and miracles. Travel about the place, stir up trouble and whatnot. Why?”

“Did it take up a lot of time?”

“Sometimes, depends on the job. Spent 11 years trying to stop Armageddon.”

“So what does Aziraphale do with his spare time now?”

Crowley laughed “I’m pretty sure he’s planning our wedding. With you, actually.”

There was a long silence, and even the demon could hear the gritted teeth in the American woman’s reply “If you don’t find him something else to do, I will die of old age STILL PLANNING YOUR WEDDING AND IT WON’T HAVE HAPPENED!!”

He smiled “How bad is it? Changes his mind all the time? Can’t make a decision? Fusses over irrelevant details? Never stops talking?”

“GRRRRR All of the above!!”

“Book Girl you have had six weeks. I’ve had 6000 years!”

“That doesn’t help. Do you want to get married?”

He sobered “Absolutely. Yes”

“He needs a project. Another project. Something else to focus on.”

“Well we were planning on moving to the country…..”

“Great! Fabulous idea, finding a new place can take ages, then there is moving, and decorating. Get right on that, would you.” Her tone very much said ‘if you don’t I quit’.

He ran his fingers through his hair one last time, to artfully muss it “I’ll talk to him tonight over dinner.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

She paused, saying softly “Thanks Crowley, I love him to bits, but he is so …….”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll find something to distract him.”

“Thanks”

“Yeah, say Hi to Newt and the kids”

“See you soon.”

*******************************************

The angel was right, traffic was terrible, it was totally hosing down and had been for hours by the look of the puddles. Good old London, at least the weather was reliably bad.

He dashed into the bookshop “Angel, I’m bloody early but we should get going. Oh!”

Sitting on his usual spot in the backroom was a young woman, hair soaked from the rain, crying into a familiar embroidered handkerchief. Aziraphale bustled in from the back with a cup of hot cocoa loaded to the brim with marshmallows, putting it down in front of the distraught woman.

“Crowley, dearest, you are early. But we might be a bit …”

“Delayed, angel?”

“M’ssssorry. I’ll just go” said the mystery woman, voice husky from emotion, but the angel said kindly “You will do nothing of the sort my dear, you are in no state to go anywhere right now.”

Crowley tapped lightly into her emotions – shock, despair, sadness, heartbreak, all overlaid with a bleak pain that he knew all too well “I’ll cancel dinner, traffic would be a bloody nightmare anyway. We’ll order in.”

_It’s a breakup angel, and a bad one. She’s not in a good way right now_

_I know dearest, but we can help, so we will._

Crowley wandered back into the shop to make the necessary calls, established that Thai was an acceptable option for dinner, and waited in the front to take delivery of the food. Aziraphale would get the story out of their unfortunate waif far easier without him present. Everyone told the angel their troubles, they couldn’t resist his inherent kindness.

Armed with bags of steaming fragrant dinner, Crowley unloaded them on the coffee table, heading upstairs for plates and cutlery. Melissa (as it turned out her name was) looked better, hair dried off with a towel, hands wrapped around the comforting mug of cocoa, eyes red and swollen from the tears, but done with crying for now.  
  
“Oh thankyou dearest” a quick kiss from his distracted angel “This is my husband, Crowley. Would you like some dinner? What did you get?”

“Green curry, red curry and vegetarian. Rice, the usual”

“May I have some green curry and rice please?”

“Of course, dear girl, help yourself.”

Something was missing……WINE! Crowley headed out the back, found a pinot gris that paired well with spicy food, returning with three glasses, and did the honours. He sat back, sipping the wine, waiting for the angel to work his magic.

Melissa began to relax under the influence of hot food and the wine, the tension slowly bleeding out of her frame, til eventually everyone had eaten their fill, and they were on the second bottle of wine. Her long dark hair dried in waves, pale skin, large dark eyes and a soft Irish accent, a striking lass when she smiled.

They talked about the bookstore, Melissa had just needed somewhere dry to escape the rain, and had hoped to find a quiet corner to sit until closing.

“Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” asked the demon, suspecting he knew the answer.

“Just a couch at a friends place. But I have to go back for my things…..”

“What happened, dear girl?” Aziraphale sat next to the waif on the sofa, he laid a hand lightly on her knee “You can tell us. Do you need help? Are you OK?”

She drew an unsteady breath “I’ve been living with my girlfriend, Sarah. Her parents are very strict Catholic, and she isn’t out to them” she made a noise that tried to be a laugh “Well she is now. Her parents turned up unexpectedly this morning. While we were still in bed. Its their place and they threw me out.”

_The memory of the outraged father screaming at her, barely allowing her a chance to get dressed before shoving her out the door was not as hurtful as the silent Sarah, doing nothing to fight back against her father’s actions. Merely standing back, sheltered in her mothers arms while her bigot of a father raged and threatened._

“It’s 2019, for God’s sake. Why are people like this?” she sounded weary and wrung out.

Angel and demon exchanged a long look “God has very little to do with it, unfortunately. You will stay here tonight, and we will take care of this.”

Crowley asked gently “Do you want to go back, if you could?”

Melissa shook her head “Sarah, she just stood there and let him scream abuse at me and throw me out. Why would I go back to that?”

“Good girl. Right choice.” He plucked the address from her memory, and would be paying a visit later that evening, when his absence would not be noted. Either way, she wasn’t going back there alone to get her stuff.

**********************************  
  
In the end she stayed for several days, they converted the sofa upstairs to a bed for the girl, recently turned 20, in her first year studying graphic design at Art School.

The three of them went round the next day to collect her clothes and personal items. Everything fitted into one suitcase and a backpack, slung easily into the back of the Bentley. A convenient gas leak (suspected) next door had evacuated everyone in the immediate vicinity, leaving the house empty for them to walk in and collect her things unmolested.

Student accommodation was always oversubscribed, but as an overseas student, Melissa should have gotten a room. Being gay in a communal living environment was always a challenge, likely the unspoken reason why she hadn’t. Both Crowley and Aziraphale had a lot to say about that, but poor Melissa didn’t have any of the answers.

Aziraphale was firmly of the belief that food was the sovereign remedy to any trials, so lunch was duly provided. Crowley picked a nice gastropub that did decent hearty servings, coupled with a better than usual wine list (his school of thought was that enough alcohol solved nearly every problem).

A frown puckered under her fringe, a quick glance at the prices deepened the frown but a pale hand rested on hers, kind blue eyes looked into hers “Our treat, dear girl.”

“Mel, please. Only my mother calls me Melissa, usually when …..”

Crowley finished up “You got busted for trouble?” the frown smoothed out into a cheeky smile, briefly.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but why are you doing this?”

“Helping you? Why on earth wouldn’t we?” Aziraphale was both puzzled and aghast at the question.

“But I’m a complete stranger?”

Crowley looked up from his phone “You need help, and we are in the position to provide it. S’the right thing to do.”

“But?” the angels smile blinded her “Think of us as your….guardian angels if you like.”

Crowley snorted and was ignored.  
  
“Tell us my dear, are there no places you can go for support? No groups or societies?”

“You mean as a student, or because I’m gay?”

“Both. Either?” Aziraphale is starting to get a bit flustered “We support Pride every year, and there is certainly a strong Rainbow presence in the community these days. Better than it used to be, I thought?”

Mel sighed “Yeah well, a lot of those groups are less about helping and more about being ‘visible’ if you know what I mean. Plus its hard enough being an arts student, let alone being a lesbian. Even in 2019. Education is still very ….. patriarchal.”

“Most of those bastards got royally rodgered at University, betcha anything. Bleeding hypocrites.” Fingers flying on his phone, Crowley was still paying attention to the conversation and Mel laughed.

“So how long have you two been together then?”

There was a whole history of unspoken message in the look that passed between the two men, Aziraphale replying hesitantly “Well, we have known each other a very long time, but we, ummm, only got together recently.”

Sensing a story, Mel sipped her wine and gestured for him to continue “Sounds interesting?”

“Oh. Our …… families didn’t get on, I guess you could say?”

“Religious differences” growled Crowley “Intolerant bastards.”

Mel suddenly understood quite a few things (she thought) “Been there, done that.”

“Yeah, well, turns out God had an opinion after all, shut them right up.”

“Now, dearest…” even Mel flinched at the angels iron fist in the velvet glove tone, for a man dressed eccentrically in very vintage clothes, looking as angelic as he did, there were clearly hidden depths. The arrival of lunch diverted everyones attention, and the conversation meandered into safer waters.

****************************************************  
  
Crowley wandered out of the bedroom in the dark, navigating through the furniture by memory, but wary of a random pile of books placed within tripping distance. It was 3am, he was thirsty but mostly asleep, so the quiet voice behind him scared him almost to discorporation.  
  
“Holy Mary and all the fishes, don’t you ever eat?” she laughed as he spun round with a startled Ngk!!

Shit!! He had forgotten about their visitor, and he was clad in only rather tight fitting briefs.

Running a hand through his hair nervously, he eyed Mel, sitting against a pile of pillows, nested into blankets, laptop shining bluewhite light on her face.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Trying to find a flat I can afford and not have to travel for hours each way.” She sounded tired and defeated.  
  
“Cocoa?”

She smiled sweetly at him “Lovely, but please, for the love of God, put some clothes on.”

He shook his hair down, pouted and struck a ridiculous pose “Really?”

“So not my type! Way too skinny and…” she flapped a hand “You know.”

“Yeah, wrong equipment” he grinned and sashayed off, reappearing quite quickly in comfy looking lounging pants and a soft sweater. It was the red fluffy bedsocks that reduced her to snorting giggles into a pillow, the eloquent raised eyebrow he threw sarcastically in her direction resulting in muffled squeaks.

Wrapping herself in a heavy comforter, she padded over to the kitchenette, so they could talk without disturbing the quiet snores still coming from the bedroom.

Crowley quietly started making cocoa from scratch, heating milk, breaking dark chocolate in when it was steaming, whisking the powder in, adding honey, topping with a generous sprinkle of marshmallows and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

He hitched a hip in the corner of the bench, letting the silence gather as they sipped cocoa in companionable silence.

“Is it worth it?” she asked quietly.  
  
He sat his cocoa down and looked at her for a long moment “Most of the time, it doesn’t feel like it. But then something happens, someone happens. Then, yes, absolutely totally worth it.”

“Its hard, fighting for the right to be yourself.”

“Fucking hard, kiddo. Every day. It’s the price you pay for being human.” There was an unaccounted bitterness in his tone that she knew wasn’t aimed at her.  
  
Mel sipped her exceptionally good cocoa “Thanks”, he shrugged a question.

“Other people would sugarcoat it. Thanks for being real about it. And the cocoa, its really good.”

“Don’t tell angel that, or I will always have to make it.”

She smiled and said in a teasing tone “Have you ever said no to him?” but the bleak expression that filled his eyes chilled her into a shiver.

“C’mon lets get you back under the blankets, show me the places you are looking at.” He collected their mugs and soon they were both bundled up on the sofa, staring into the laptop screen “Nope, nope, lord no! Shithole, dump, bad part of town.”

“Crowley, I can’t afford anywhere else. Not on a student allowance and a shitty part time job. Not by myself…” Tears welled in her eyes, with a sob Mel folded forward, muffling her crying in her hands.

“Shit!” the demon grabbed some pillows, shoved them behind him and then carefully cradled the crying girl against him “Hey, s’gonna be OK, promise.” He leaned back into the nest of pillows, snugging her to his chest, pulling the blankets up over them. Stroking her hair, he murmured soothing nonsense til eventually, with a few snuffling hiccups she reached for the box to tissues that now happened to be conveniently handy.

“Sorry” she sniffed, took a deep breath and then another, and shuddered as she let go of the tension built up from the crying.

“Never be sorry for having feelings. Its how you know you’re alive.”

Mel blinked at him “Did you just say that? That’s like, a Hallmark card motivational quote?” she sniggered at the look of horror that briefly filled the demons face.  
  
“Fuck, bloody Aziraphale, his nice is rubbing off on me.” With a sigh, Mel snuggled down against his shoulder

“You two are so adorable, how did you get together?”

“S’long story, not very interesting.”

“I’m interested. Tell me a story Crowley, help me get back to sleep.”

With a sigh, he burrowed them both down into the pillows. “We met while we were working. For our families. Lots of disagreement. Bit tense those religious types, very uptight.”

“Yeah, bloody hypocrites.”

“Shush you. He wasn’t like them. Isn’t. He’s kind, thoughtful and so bloody good it makes my teeth ache. But just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing too.”

“Sounds like you have loved him forever.”

“Pretty much from the first conversation we had, actually. S’bit fucking sad really. Couldn’t admit how we felt to each other for a really long time. So pining. Very angst. Much wow.”

Mel giggled, poking him in the ribs “Such an idiot.”

Crowley sighed “Oh you have no idea. But there were reasons. Consequences we couldn’t risk.”

“What happened?”

“Something so big it felt like the end of the world. Then we got an unexpected reprieve, and finally had the freedom to make our own choices.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Did what hurt?”

“Loving him from afar for such a long time?” The silence stretched so long, Mel began to wonder what to say next, when Crowley began to speak, his voice intense but soft

“Every smile, every touch, each laugh. Every single fucking moment I was with him was a gift. I would gather them, hold them close, my most precious possessions. Yeah, every single one of them cut deep enough to bleed, but you have a choice when you love someone like that. You can let it scar, over and over again, until eventually you don’t feel anything, because your heart is only scar tissue.”

He shrugged “Or you let it bleed you, drop by drop, hoping that eventually the love will be returned before you bleed out.”

She shivered at the intensity of his words.

“Everything I have, everything I am is his, always has been.”

“Fuck I’m going to cry again.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her dark hair “Hey, we got our happy ending. Yeah it was fucking hard, hurt like hell for a lot of it. Love isn’t magic, its two people learning to know and understand each other. Its communication, listening, compromise. It takes work and effort.”

“There you go again, being all real about shit.”

“Ah kiddo, I know it feels like bloody awful right now, but it’ll get better.”

“Eventually.” She sounded a little bitter.

“Hope is a very powerful thing, and a little faith can get you a long way.”

She sighed, sleepy now “Is that what kept you going?”

He was quiet for so long she had almost fallen asleep “Even when being around him was the most exquisite torture, it was worth every second. If that’s all I ever had, then it was enough. Loving him was the only good thing in my life. I hoped one day I would get to tell him that.”

Eventually he followed her down into sleep.

_From the doorway of the bedroom, the angel wiped away the tears that had streamed diamond bright and starlight silent down his cheeks as he whispered “Oh my dearest love, you loved me when I did nothing but hurt you, over and over again."   
_   
_He had woken, cold and alone wondering where his husband was, the sound of voices pulling him to the doorway. Unwilling to intrude on the private moment, instead he lingered to listen, not expecting to have his heart rent asunder. _

_Fortunately the pillow muffled his tears._

****************************************  
  
Crowley had put word out amongst his Soho contacts, and a couple of options for rooms in gay friendly places were offered. Mel happily took the second one as it was only a couple of train stops away from college.

Hugs and kisses were bestowed when they dropped her off “Promise I will come visit soon. I haven’t even started on looking at all your books yet!”

“Come any time, dear girl, you are always welcome.”

“Text, yeah?” said Crowley laconically from his lean against the Bentley.

“So text. Much annoying. Very wow.”

“Smartarse.”

******************************************

Over wine that evening Crowley was particularly quiet. “Are you alright, my dear? Missing our house guest?”

The demon jerked, he had been deep in thought “What? Oh, no but she gave me an idea” he trailed off.  
  
Clearly Crowley needed some thinking space, so Aziraphale topped off their wine glasses and settled down with his latest book.

It took a couple of days, many mysterious phone calls, the demon disappearing for most of the time, much phone interaction before he finally explained.  
  
“You remember the Hundred Guineas Club?”

“Of course, my dear, many fond memories of my time there.”

“Well, Mel gave me an idea. Why don’t we open something similar here in Soho? A modern day version that caters to the Rainbow community. Very exclusive private club.”

Aziraphale put his wine down “That’s a wonderful idea! But how? Where?” all the questions flustered him and he shrugged helplessly “I haven’t the faintest idea how to go about it my dear.”

“Don’t need to, love. Got it sorted. I’ve got property all over London, in fact there is a spot just round the corner that might do. Old warehouse.”

“Crowley……how much money do you actually have?” the demon shrugged carelessly.  
  
“M’loaded angel, been investing for centuries. Do you wanna buy a country? Can afford a small one if you like?”

The contents of the bookshop probably would have made him a millionaire several times over, but the angel had also invested wisely, so wasn’t short of funds himself. But clearly he hadn’t taken it to the level the demon had.

He flapped a hand “We have the whole world to look after, what would I do with a country?”

“How about be Mother Hen to some lost boys, girls and others at our club instead?”

Aziraphale frowned in that ‘I’m thinking hard about it’ way “What would I need to do?”

Crowley leaned forward “Well you were a long term member. Tell me about what it was like, how it worked. Help me plan and build it?”

“Oh my dearest, it sounds very exciting. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Yeah I do actually. Second Circle.” Unexpectedly the angel laughed.

“How very on brand for you Crowley.”

He laughed again at the flummoxed look on the demons face. He wasn’t entirely clueless about modern times, after all. He just chose to let a lot of it pass him by.

*******************************  
  
**_A few days later_**

BookGirl: What the hell did you do?

HellBoy: ??

BookGirl: Haven’t heard from Angel in days!!  
  
HellBoy: Yeah found him a project

BookGirl: Thank God

HellBoy: Oh no thank ME

BookGirl: mmmm might let him do that actually

HellBoy: good call


	15. Interludes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our angel and demon chat with their human friends who have some insights on relationship dynamics. Human bodies are weird and brain chemistry can fuck you right up, especially when you aren't aware of whats happening.

** _INTERLUDES_ **

Newt came down to help Crowley unload more gardening supplies from the back of the Bentley. Except all there was only a spade and fork, both shiny and brand new, and a pair of very well worn leather boots. They looked oddly oldfashioned for Crowley but he laced them on, stomped his feet in with a smile and then frowned at Newt in his gumboots.

“Nah they won’t do, got some proper work boots?”

“Only these, sorry.”

“Right then” the demon stared hard at the gumboots, the soles got substantially thicker and firmer with decent tread in the bottom “They’ll do. Spade?”

“In the shed. What are we doing?”

Crowley hefted his very shiny spade over his shoulder “Digging. Turning over the soil for winter” he handed Newt the fork “Going to earn your lunch today.”

He demonstrated how to use the fork to break the frozen winter ground up, and followed with the spade to lift and turn the soil. Eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm, talking about what other tasks needed to be done, what spring would bring to the garden.

Even in the cold winter air, it was hot work, so they stopped for breaks to cool down, work the kinks out of well used muscles.

Crowley stretched out his long legs and sighed “Can I ask you a question?”

“Just did.”

Crowley rolled his eyes “Another question then. Personal.”

“Will I need alcohol for this?”

The demon snorted “You’ve spent too much time around me, clearly.”

“Isn’t your job description like Be A Bad Influence?”

“Was. Past tense.”

Newt shrugged “Even so. But yeah, go on.”

“Right” Crowley gathered his thoughts “Those things you said about …us… when we had lunch, how did you know that? Or I guess, see that? Umm understand us?”

“Your bodies are human, right? They have all the chemicals and hormones and stuff, function the same way?”

“Essentially, yeah. We can control quite a lot of what they do, but don’t normally muck around too much with what the brain does. Can get all kinds of messy if you get it wrong.”

“So your …. Emotional reactions and responses are basically the same as ours then?”

“Are you asking if we have sex……because…”

Newt whispers desperately “Oh please God, if you are real, turn this water into vodka” his hands clutching the plastic sports bottle tightly.

With a snap of fingers Crowley said “There you go, don’t drink it all at once.”

Newt did in fact have a generous swig, coughing a bit before replying “ANYWAY, For the record, I have no need to hear about your sex life. Ever. Anathema will get ideas” Crowley spluttered a surprised laugh but Newt waved him off.  
  
“Right, where was I, brain chemistry. Yes. So. Seratonin, Dopamine, Norepinepherine and Oxytocin. Fucks you right up. Make you fall in love, do stupid things. Alters the way you think and feel. History is full of stupid love stories, Romeo and Juliet are classic examples. See?”

The demon was beginning to “But even for us, after all this time?”

“Well friends to lovers is a classic romance trope, but if you two have survived this long feeling the way you do, then I think its become part of who you are.”

“But how do you know? How can you see that in us?”

Newt took another long swallow from the exceedingly good vodka “Don’t you see it? I’m Aziraphale and Anathema is you. She has known all her life she would meet me, but I had no warning at all. I’m still trying to catch up, hoping that I won’t let her down. Hoping she doesn’t suddenly come to her senses and see that I’m so far out of her league its not funny.”

Crowley held a silent hand out for the sports bottle and took a healthy swallow or three himself “Shit, I see your point. But….” He turned to the other man, handing the bottle back “You are a good man, kind, funny, great with kids, patient. Not an idiot. And you really care about her?”

“She’s amazing, so smart. Interesting, educated, weird but in a good way. And…”

“Not at all hard on the eyes?”

“Mmmmmm”

“New rule, I don’t tell you about my sex life, same goes for you.”

“I’ll drink to that” Newt does and hands the bottle back to Crowley, who solemnly seals the vow with a swallow. It was very good vodka.

“Do you tell her how you feel?”

Newt turned, swaying a little, eyes not quite in focus “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“OK then, enough vodka for you” Crowley clicked his fingers again, changing it back to water and sobering his friend up.

Newt turned an odd shade of white, then red, closed his eyes and groaned “Jesus Christ that feels awful.”

“Better than a hangover though. C’mon lets sweat the rest out of your system.”

“Are we going to talk about our feelings now?”

“Sounds like we both need the practice….”

“……. That’s fair…..”

***********************************************  
  
Anathema stood at the sink, rinsing out the teacups, leaving them upside down to drain. Watching Newt and Crowley in the garden, she stood with a soft smile on her face, lost in thought. A touch on her shoulder startled her, but it was just the angel standing comfortably next to her.  
  
“It would seem an unlikely friendship” he said quietly.  
  
“Nearly as unlikely as an angel and a demon who fell in love?” she nudged him gently with her shoulder.

He nudged back “He’s a good man, kind, patient, thoughtful.”

The witch looked at him for a long moment “They both are, actually.”

He sighed, staring out the window, chewing his bottom lip in that worrying way of his. Anathema reached into the cupboard beside her for two wine glasses, sat herself back at the kitchen table, pointedly put a glass in front of their seats.   
  
“Sit. Do the thing for the wine you like. Talk.” 

“Red or white my dear?”

“White I think, something light please.” A chilled bottle of Prosecco appeared on the table, she reached over to do the honours with the cork, a good pour into each glass.

Closing her eyes to savour the first sip, dry, crisp with fine bubbles to tickle her nose “You haven’t been yourself at all today Aziraphale, what happened?”

“Well, I overheard a conversation, something very personal. Nothing bad, but probably Crowley would prefer I hadn’t heard it. It bothers me, quite a bit my dear. I’m not sure what to do.”

“Can you give me the gist of it?”

“He was telling our houseguest a bit about our history, a very sanitised version obviously. But he shared some insights into how painful it had been for him. Our friendship.” He blushed in embarrassment, Anathema knew a fair bit about their history and its issues and had some firm opinions about the stupidity of the situation (from her point of view).

“Why does it bother you so much?”

His fingers fretted with the stem of the wineglass, she had learned that he needed time to process his thoughts, so sat back, sipping lightly on the wine in her glass. He would speak when he was ready.

“I hurt him, so very many times. At first it was accidental, but eventually I realised. I am ashamed to say that I took advantage. I knew how he felt and used it, used him. Because I wasn’t brave enough to let go of the lies Heaven told me, not then.”

“But you did, eventually.”

Hands now working in his lap, the angel looked down “Truthfully, its hard to let go of the conditioning as Crowley calls it. Learning to recalibrate your moral compass, well its difficult. Changing the way you think, reframing your point of view. Letting go of old values, I forget a lot. Say the wrong thing, and I see how it hurts him. I hate how I keep doing that.”

She scooted her chair over so she could reach over and take both his hands in hers “Do you do it deliberately?”

“Oh dear girl, I’m trying so hard not to.”

“How does it make you feel?”

He bit his lip again “Sometimes I watch him when he sleeps, so vulnerable and trusting . He chose me, Anathema, he always always chose me, regardless of the consequences. How do I feel? Unworthy. So very unworthy of such love.”

“And you love him?”

Those heavenly blue eyes gazed into hers with a holy light “Until the very end of time.”

She gave his soft hands a squeeze “God herself married you, yes?”

“Oh yes, it was very startling.”

“I bet. But you have missed the point, if *She* didn’t think you were worthy, would She have done it. Done everything else as well?”

He clearly needed another moment to process that, so she let go of his hands, and topped off their wine glasses. While he was thinking, she rummaged in the cupboard and fridge for snacks, soon a platter of camembert, crackers, salami, paté and grapes was assembled. Snacks were a requirement when the angel was around she had learned.

“Anathema, am I, as the parlance goes ‘making this all about me’?”

She handed him a cracker with a slice of cheese on it “Do you want me to be honest?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, you are a bit. Self awareness is not easy for anyone. But as the parlance goes ‘you do need to get over yourself’.”

She pushed the platter in his direction “Is that why you have been so…..stressed…. about the wedding. You feel guilty? So you are trying to make it perfect, to somehow make up for …. Stuff.”

_Well who would have guessed he blushed so spectacularly!_

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“My dear, have I been so difficult?”

“Somewhat.”

His turn to reach over and lay his hand over hers “My dear girl, you are so kind, I do humbly apologise.”

“Aziraphale, if Crowley loves you and forgives you, maybe you could try a couple of things?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“First one, forgive yourself for your past mistakes. Second, commit to doing your best to love him the way he deserves. And talk to him. Tell him how you feel. Whats the worst that could happen?”

“The world might end?”

“Pffft been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” She laughed at the surprised look in the angels face “Relax, it’s more of that modern stuff you ignore.”

“How did you get to be so wise for one so young?”

“You might be an immortal celestial being, with superpowers, but you still inhabit human bodies. Suffer the same issues we do with relationships. You don’t have the same context we do, so its still a bit confusing.”

“So I’m beginning to understand.”

“You should talk to Newt, he studied psychology at University. He says brains are human computers, and he likes to know how things work.”

“Perhaps I will.”

“More wine?”

He laughed “You know there is only one answer to that question.”

****************************************************  
  
Newt dawdled a bit as they walked hand in hand to the pub for lunch, following a way behind Crowley and Aziraphale, who talked intently as they walked ahead.  
  
“Thankyou for the work you are doing in the garden Newt” she squeezed his hand through her leather gloves “It already looks so much better.”

He shrugged “Just do what Crowley tells me” but she caught the shy smile “He has very firm views about gardens.”

“You like him?”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy underneath the ‘don’t fuck with me cos I fuck back’ attitude.”

“Newt!”

“Did I mention he’s a bit of a bad influence too?”

She smirked at him “……really?”

“Settle down, we made an agreement not to talk about sex.”

“With each other or…..?”

“Witch!”

Her laughter peeled out into the chill air “So what do you talk about then, other than gardens and not sex?”

He was quiet for a long moment “Being human, mostly. Relationship stuff. He has …. Issues.”

“I had a similar chat with Aziraphale today too.”

“Issues?”

“The size of Australia.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him to talk to Crowley about it. You?”

Newt laughed “Same, actually. Do you think they will?”

She let her eyes unfocus so she could see their auras, how they blended and merged. How the layers of pain and grief were reduced from the last time she looked, and the love shone so very brightly around the edges.

“Eventually, yeah.”


	16. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple more interludes - no particular time or place for these. Some more experiences of what it takes to live in a human body. Memories hold power, and affect us in often unexpected ways.

** _NIGHTMARES _ **

Heart pounding, clawing at the now suffocating blankets he screamed himself awake, scrambling to get upright… _GONE!! LOST, GONE, BURNING……Lost Lost Lost Lost …._

Sitting on the edge of the wrecked bed, shuddering with adrenaline aftershocks, nerves twitching like static shocks, hands clenched nailsplinter tight into the mattress, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it.

“Fuck” a shaky indrawn breath through the mouth, exhale out the nose, hold each for 4 seconds, rinse and repeat.

Slowly _too slowly_ his heartrate slowed as the adrenaline eventually purged from his bloodstream, decreasing the shakes, replaced instead with shivering chills.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.”

“Not another one Crowley? That’s the third this month” Mattress dipping under the angels weight as his solid warmth braces the demon, one warm smooth hand stroking slow calming strokes over trembling bladesharp shoulders.

With a sigh the demon relaxes into the caresses “Thanks angel”

“That seemed like a bad one…..bath I think?”

“Mmmm”

“Can you walk or should I carry you?” Silently the demon wound his arms around the angels neck, who obligingly picked him up, pressing a fond kiss to the temple snugged into the crook of his shoulder.

The bath was full to just the right level to be displaced by two celestial bodies, Aziraphale laid Crowley into the hot water, having vanished all their clothes, and climbed in behind his husband to provide a solid comforting presence.

They drifted in the embrace of hot water and porcelain, wreathed in steam and silence, until with a full body shudder, the demon began to weep silent hot tears. Only then was the abuse of the chemical cascade of horrors from his brain finally over, he could submit to the release of emotions, grounded in the contact with his angel. It was a brief but necessary step, one he had fought hard until Aziraphale had broken down the process for him, it was what his system needed to cope.

With a sigh he finally relaxed down into the water, not bonelessly but not strung wire tight, nails embedded into palms tight. Aziraphale reached up with both hands and began a soothing scalp massage, Crowleys jaw muscles always locked tight with the really bad nightmares.

“Was it the Bookshop again?”

Throat still tight from the tears, the demon croaked “Yeah.” 

“Will you let me take care of you?” and the demon nodded.

“M’sorry angel.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, dearest. Its my fault for being so inconveniently discorporated. I am sorry it still hurts you so badly.”

“Dunno why She didn’t fix it when she did the other stuff?”

Aziraphale changed his angle to get into the sub occiptals and Crowley groaned in appreciation “I suspect, my dearest, that the nightmares are a purely human response to trauma. Brains are complicated things, even for us.”

Crowley, rendered mute by the magic the angel was working with his fingertips, merely sighed in agreement.

“Just relax darling, let me take all your pain away.”

_Later, as they lay in bed, Crowley sound asleep on the angels shoulder, finally soothed back into sleep, Aziraphale stared up into the darkness. Given their recent discussion with God, he was a little uncertain about actually praying for something specific, but he didn’t have anything else to try._

_“Please Lord, if you are listening, can you help him? It hurts him so very much, more than he tells me, I’m sure of it. Lord, can you lend one tiny speck of Grace to heal this, give him the peace he so desperately needs? Please? For his sake?” _

_He let himself slip away into the oblivion of sleep._

_A faint bluewhite iridescence shimmered in the air, settled on their sleeping forms, disappearing. An unheard warm female voice whispered “For both your sakes, my most precious of children.” _

_The nightmares didn’t stop, not for many centuries. But they happened far less often, and were less brutal. It was a blessing for both of them._

_*************************************************  
**NIGHT FEARS**_

Moonlight flooded the room, turning shadows to silverblack, making stark lines of the furniture and window frames, falling with cool precision on the goldflecked angel wings wrapped in a cocoon around the angelic body hunched on the floor.

Shielded within the comfort of his wings, he wrapped arms tightly around himself, rocking a little, tears streaming unchecked down his face.

It only happened on the night of a clear full moon, something that didn’t happen that often in England. There was something about the quality of that austere light that tweaked a memory, and the resulting cascade of emotions bought the angel to this nearly catatonic state.

_Heaven was lit with a similar light back in the beginning. Back when everything was fresh, new, joyous. When love was true, real and blessed. When kindness was valued, when Aziraphale felt like he ….. belonged._

_It hurt, to be cleaved from that time, that place. Regardless of the fact that Heaven was now cold, clinical, harsh and rigid in its approach, that Aziraphale had chosen Earth, had deliberately removed himself from the sterile bleakness that replaced what had been._  
  
Regardless of all of that, it still hurt, deep down, to lose that feeling of belonging …..somewhere. Aziraphale knew all to well that he didn’t fit, hadn’t fitted for eons. Even so, when the light shone down in a certain way, ennui and melancholy gripped him hard, dragging him down too deep.  
  
Eventually the warm golden light of dawn would rouse him, aching from being hunched tight on the floor for hours, wrung out from the emotional aftermath. He never told Crowley, afraid he would misconstrue the sadness, afraid his feelings would injure his loved one in new and cruel ways.

“Angel?” the demons sleep scratchy voice, bare feet padding on the wooden floor.

“Angel!” Panic fast he crashed to his knees in front of the trembling wall of whitegold feathers. Uncertain what to do he brushed his fingertips softly over the wings   
  
“Aziraphale? What?....Shit…Are you?... Fuck! Angel! _What can I do?”_

Voice harsh with tears, unrecognisable as his angel “Stop yelling at me Crowley” sounding more weary and careworn than the demon had heard since they witnessed the horror of the Black Plague wreaking its havoc in London.

Biting back his anxious words, getting a few deep breaths in, the demon managed to ask, softer “What do you need, angel?”

“Will you go away?”

“No, I’m not leaving you like this. Angel, what’s wrong?”

With a soft flutter the wings fell open, revealing the miserable form of the angel huddled underneath their shelter, face blotchy and sticky from tears, hands dug whiteknuckle deep into the flesh of his arm, lip bruised and bitten.

“Christ Angel! Who did this?” but the blonde shook his head

“No one did anything Crowley.”

“Then what?” he reached out slowly, wiping tears carefully away with the pad of his thumb, and the backs of his knuckles, before carefully gathering the angel up into his lap, cradling him encircled with long lanky legs, arms gentle.  
  
“Please angel, talk to me” the pleading tone broke the angels reserve, shuddering in his husbands frightened embrace, he began to cry, deep shuddering soul deep sob of loss it was heartbreaking to hear.

Unable to do anything except press kisses and gentle strokes to the blond hair nestled in against his shoulder, Crowley murmured wordless comfort, simply being there, offering the support and presence the angel needed. Later, when the storm of emotions was over, they would talk.

_I've been talking with the darkness and listening to what she says._

_And I've been touching all the shadows that are hiding in my head._

_************************************_

_Crowley downloaded an app and programmed an alarm on his phone for all the full moon nights in the future. Aziraphale would never suffer alone ever again. _  
  
The demon knew inherently the pain the angel was feeling, it was all to similar to what it was like to be Fallen. In some ways, he suspected it was harder for Aziraphale because it was his choice to leave Heaven behind. The goodness in his angel still struggled against the inherent conditioning that had guided all his choices, unconsciously he still yearned for a time and place where he had been happy.

_Aziraphale had yet to learn how to let that go, and Crowley would be there, every step of the way. Guiding, helping, supporting, whatever his angel needed._


	17. A Cottage Gets a Makeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley heads to the cottage to start redecorating and making it ready for them to move into.

** _Forever Cottage A Week after Purchase_ **

“Are you sure Crowley? Its nearly Christmas, surely its too late to get started?”

The demon grinned “Wave enough money around angel and you can work miracles!”

The miffed eyeroll was worth the terrible pun “How long will you be gone?”

“At least a week, probably longer. Need to get all the basics sorted. You agreed, I will take care of the cottage and you will sort the club.” He planted an affectionate kiss on one cheek “Will you miss me, angel?”

Being grabbed by the lapels, and pulled in for a long lingering kiss that left both of them dizzy gave him a fair idea but Aziraphale pushed him away, nonchalantly brushed his jacket flat “Oh, eventually, I imagine. Do remember to come home dearest.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of one soft hand in passing “I’m making us a home. Keep your bloody cellphone charged while I’m away will’ya?”

The shop bell tinkled as he left the shop, lurched into the Bentley, and with a roar, headed off. Suddenly the bookshop felt empty and cold without his vibrant presence.

***********************************************  
Crowley had booked an AirBnB one village over from theirs for a couple of weeks. It was 45min drive away for normal people, he did it in 20. The demon had little enough patience for pesky road rules, so the laws of physics were simply another annoyance to be ignored.

He left the Bentley parked safely off the side of the road, walking the length of the driveway, scoping out the landscape. It would have to be graded, levelled, filled and he would prefer it fully sealed, but the time of year might cause issues with that.

It was so peaceful, wind in the trees, birdsong, a dog barking some distance away. He couldn’t hear the sea due to the direction of the wind, but the air smelt fresh, clean. The paddocks on either side had been plowed over for winter, and a hedge down the left side looked like it had been properly laid at some point in its distant past. Patches of brambles hinted at berries in summer, here and there what looked like wild roses.

Although sadly neglected, the hedgerow was healthy, a good sign for the quality of the land. His fingers itched for the feel of good soil under his nails, the joy of planting, harvesting, nurturing the land and reaping the rewards it would offer in return.

Reaching the line of trees that marked their boundary, he slipped between two towering Lombardy poplars and smiled at the view. The cleaning crew should have done inside the house last week as negotiated, drains and wiring been checked and attended to already, power and water turned back on.

While they could miracle everything they needed, the decision had been made to do the large obvious things the human way. They were planning on settling into a new community, so needed to appear to fit in. Plus employing local contractors was a good way to make contacts and spread gossip.

His phone buzzed with a text “Sorry, got lost, just heading down the driveway now.” It was the interior decorator from London. He picked his way across the shingle to let himself into the house for the first time.

************************************

“Oh! I see what you mean about the kitchen, its simply divine.” Carol’s slightly plummy tones echoed around the empty house as she shuddered “Hideous carpet, must go!”

Crowley scuffed at the worn and quite awful carpet “Was hoping there might be wooden floorboards underneath. Be nice.”

“Very _rustic_ and charming, a few rugs to soften it up, just the thing.” She made notes on her clipboard “What were you thinking for the colour scheme?”

He shrugged, trying to merge his minimal aesthetic with Aziraphales comfortable oldfashioned clutter was the end game “S’why you’re here.”

“Crowley…..” her voice lost its posh tones, switching to that familiar London twang from her younger years as a struggling artist and designer living in a tenement flat in one of the shabbier parts of Soho twenty odd years ago.

“Carol….” He twanged back at her. She had a real gift for colour, for accessorising with a simple elegant style. The demon had used her services when he moved into the Mayfair flat, back in the day to build out his singular design style for the space. Carol had been appalled at his choices, yet overjoyed at the money he was prepared to pay for genuine antiques, like the flashy throne.

They had bonded over late night curries, too much beer, and a fondness for what Aziraphale would term ‘bebop’ music.

“I need some idea of what you do or don’t want, help me out here, mate?” Opening up a couple of folders of paint colours and curtain fabrics, she flipped the pages back and forward “Do you want modern neutrals? Something avant-garde? Cosy cottage? Florals?”

Crowley shuddered and she laughed “OK no florals. But what do you want the space to feel like?”

And that there is why she got hired, not because she cared about how it looked, but because she understood that a space needed to be lived in. That the decorating was part of the overall experience for the people that lived there. Unlike the pretentious prats that had showcase homes so perfect they could grace the covers of magazines, but were sterile and unwelcoming, like their owners.

“Can we do modern cottage in some way?” He gestured to the high tech kitchen “This makes a statement, so the rest needs to match it. But still be comfortable. I want it to feel like home for both of us.”

“So polished wooden floors, a nice dining table and chairs, a big comfy sofa in front of the fireplace, that kind of thing?”

“Yeah, don’t forget the big screen TV there” he gestured over the fireplace “On that wall, floor to ceiling built in wooden bookcases too.”

The decorator sighed but she had seen the bookshop and knew what she was up against “All that wood will balance out the kitchen, add warmth and feel more natural. Colours?”

He flicked through the paint samples, how was it possible to have so many shades of white that totally veered into grey and cream territory? Pointing to a rich warm cream “This for the base colour” her pen scratched as she made a note.

“Do you want a feature wall colour too?”

“Mmmm where the fireplace is……..this one I think” He had chosen a deep green with a hint of blue in it.”

“Classical elegance, lovely with warm wood floors. Curtains?”

“Heavy fabric, textured, natural, cream as well. Bit darker than the walls?”

They wandered into the spare bedrooms “What are your plans for here?”

“One room for a guest room, one for the library and the big one for our office.”

“Does the library need anything special?”

“Ask Aziraphale, but no carpets, aircon and dust filters. Probably special lighting too”

“Can we paint in there or will the fumes be an issue?”

Crowley shrugged “By the time we move in, should be fine.”

“Colours?”

“Same as the lounge but a lighter shade of green?” More pen scratches. She sighed in appreciation of the bathroom and they headed for the last room in the house, their bedroom.  
  
Carol looked at the long narrow shape of the room “Going to put the bed at the end?”

“Nope, in the middle, facing the doors into the lounge.” It was a totally valid but rather unconventional placement for the bed, but it left a lot of empty space. There were generous built in wardrobes on the wall that didn’t have the fireplace built into it to provide storage space.

“What are you going to fill the rest of room up with? More bookcases?”

He huffed a laugh but shrugged “Stuff, probably” taking the hint she changed the subject

“So what colour in here?”

“Pale blue, white ceiling with the wall at the end to be dark midnight blue” This he had definitely put some thought into. There had been a window there but it was now concealed behind a thick slab of gib. For warmth and privacy.

“Wooden floors or carpet?”

They had talked about this already, debating the merits of padding underneath knees vs carpet burn “Carpet, thick plush soft. Cream or sand coloured”

“Curtains?”

“Dark blue, very heavy and dark, can’t let any light in. Mm not a morning person”

Carol snickered “Yeah I remember. Alright when do you want it done by? Remember its Christmas soon, and that driveway is a shocker.”

“Yeah, they start work on that today, actually. Should be done by New Year. Can you get it done by end January?”

“You good for it?” the implication being it was a rush job at a particularly inconvenient time of the year, and that came at a price.

“Aren’t I always?”

“Buy me lunch and lets thrash out the details, yeah?”

He spied a corner of the dreadful lounge carpet that was loose, leaned down, grabbed hold and with a yank, tore a big section of carpet up. Grabbing the shabby underlay, he pulled that up to, revealing the hoped for wooden floorboards.

They smiled at each other “Oh those are going to look gorgeous when I’m done with them.”


	18. Meanwhile in SoHo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale brings in a familiar face to help design the club space and facilities. Mel counts her blessings.

** _Meanwhile in SoHo_ **

“Aziraphale?” Mel cautiously pushed open the unmarked door in the rather noxious alleyway, voice echoing in the huge empty space uncertainly.  
  
A scuffed, stained and scratched concrete floor underfoot, two impressive brick towers holding up an array of steel rafters, solid brick walls circled at the top by dim yellowed windows. Perhaps an old factory or warehouse, air chill enough to see her breath as she called out the angels name again, louder.

“Aziraphale?”

She jumped as a door to her left opened unexpectedly and the dapper angel stepped through.

“Mel, dear girl. You found the place alright then?”

Staring around in confusion, she walked to meet the angel, and was enveloped in a gentle hug “How are you my dear? Not going home for the holidays?”

She shrugged “Can’t really afford it, need to pay rent and fees and stuff.”

“You know you are welcome to join us for the day if you like” Aziraphales voice was soft and kind but she stammered

“Oh I couldn’t, its time to spend with family…”

“Hush my dear, we don’t have any family around, not the kind that matters anyway. You would be very welcome.” He patted her hand “Think about it, but first, tell me, what do you think of this space?”

“Well….. its very …..spacious I guess?” she tilted her head and shrugged in confusion “What are you going to do with it?”

“Ah I’ve done it again, haven’t I” he said almost to himself, squaring up his shoulders, he ushered her out the door “That’s exactly why I need you my dear, I forget to mention the important details. Come, let us find somewhere warm and cosy, and I will explain.”

************************************  
Lingering over the truly excellent gateaux, Mel ran a finger through the smear of cream on her plate, licking it thoughtfully.  
  
“So you want to start a modern day Gentlemans Club but for the whole Rainbow community in SoHo? Where people can safely meet, hang out in an environment that supports and encourages their life choices?”

“Very well put.”

“OK, but what do you need me for?”

Aziraphale sat back in his chair and she swore his eyes actually twinkled at her as he swept a hand through the air encompassing himself “I’m rather out of touch with the modern scene, quite obviously. I need to know what the people of today find to entertain themselves with. To give them what they want.”

“Do you have some ideas already?”

Eyes alight he sat forward “Well I talked a bit about it with Crowley, a bar and dancefloor, DJ and those fancy light shows, places for people to sit and so on.”

She nodded “Yes that sounds like a good place to start, anything else?”

“Crowley suggested an interesting idea ‘Play Rooms’ where people could experiment with fun interactions, sensory deprivation, food play, bondage and so on. But with windows for the rooms so that people could watch as well. Apparently exhibitionism is a thing?”

Choking a bit on her tea, Mel nodded “Well not for everyone, but yes that sounds interesting provided you have some very clearly defined safety limits.”

“Oh yes, anyone wanting anything very hard core will need to use one of the rooms put aside for that purpose. Consent and Safety are absolute unbreakable rules.”

“How will you enforce them?”

Aziraphale smiled a very dangerous smile, one that tasted of a knife blade “Crowley’s department”

She shivered, the tall red head had been nothing but kind to her, but there was a dark dangerous edge to him that sat very close to the surface.

“What about food? If you are serving alcohol you need to have food options too.”

“Yes, there will be in house dining options as well. The plan is to eventually have a clinic with medical and counselling services catering to the specific needs of the community, without judgement as well.”

“That sounds pretty amazing, actually. But it must cost a small fortune to pull this together? How will you make any money out of it?”

He waved a hand dismissively “Money is no issue here my dear, and we will have membership levels. Depending on the services. Drinks will be more affordable, the food will be excellent quality and we hope to build a loyal following.”

“But why do you need me?”

Again with the twinkling blue eyes “You are our target market, I believe the correct term is. I want to hire you as a consultant to make sure this appeals in the right way. Plus we need to develop a subtle marketing plan to build interest in the community and I believe you are studying marketing?”

Dazzled by the offer, she blinked “Well I’ve done first year….”

“Perfect, dear girl, are you interested?”

Wordlessly she nodded.

“Care for another look through the space? I hear it helps with visualising for you artistic people?”

She smiled up at him “You really are my guardian angel, aren’t you?”

**************************************

Mel knew a third year student who was specialising in modern design in large open spaces (like warehouses) and he had a contact in a local BDSM dungeon. The lure of doing a proper commercial design and fitout (with an unlimited budget) was enough to ensure full time commitment even during the holiday period.

Plus Taylor could use the project for his graduation project, so everyone benefitted. Mistress Lash was delighted to be consulted (and paid handsomely) for her services with helping design a safe but exciting setup in the three play rooms. 

Her warm cultured tones filled the bookshop one rainy afternoon “Aziraphale darling, what you are doing is simply marvellous. I’m delighted to be a part of it. If you want to branch out more with say, some advanced classes in my area of …. expertise… I would be delighted to assist.”

Topping off her wine glass the angel nodded “Perhaps, if there is a demand for it.” He paused “I would be interested in a tour of your facilities Sasha, if I might be so bold?”

“Of course, darling. What were you hoping to see?”

He shrugged “Just time to update myself on whats current. I’m a little out of practice and well…”

“Now you have someone to play with?” an arch look at the decorative wedding band on his left hand.

He stared at her with that hard flat dom stare, the one that promised all sorts of ….things… for a long moment, blinked and the twinkling kindly blue eyes were back.  
  
Sasha breathed out in appreciation “It would be _delicious_ to see you at work, my darling, but I suspect you prefer to work in private.”

He shrugged a little carelessly “Crowley is a bit high strung and my priority is always his welfare.”

“As it should be. Does tomorrow suit you? Pop round after lunch and we can have dinner afterwards, and chat.”

“Sounds delightful my dear. Now about these plans? Are there any changes you think we should make?”

******************************************  
**_A month later_**

Mel stood in the doorway and whistled in appreciation “Wow, if you have enough money you *can* work miracles!”

The walls were painted a glistening white, the now clean windows and skylights throwing natural light on the floor space, lighting up the dancefloor, now surrounded by café tables and chairs, with a raised surround of comfortable booths.  
  
A tower of scaffolding held up a huge DJ deck, with racks of knobs, levers and dials at hand, to control the lights, video and music.

The piece de resistance was the huge free standing bar in the middle of the floor, with more glistening white decorated with neon tubes in a variety of colours. A wall of combined mirrors and neon with fancy backlit glass shelves stocked the impressive range of spirits.

On her left was a new archway, curtained in heavy crimson velvet with a sign in gothic script saying Play Rooms above the doorway. A bigger door behind the bar had no sign but it led to the not yet finished dining rooms and through to the planned hotel suite style accommodation. Both of which should be completed by the end of the month.  
  
Crowley clambered down the stairs from the DJ platform where he had been finessing some of the electronics “Looking pretty great kiddo, you done good.”

“We done good you mean.”

“Oh no, take the credit you’ve earned. Kept angel on track, that’s a major accomplishment.”

“I heard that” said the aforementioned angel snippily, straightening from behind the bar, where he had been stocking the fridges.

With a cheeky grin, Crowley slung an arm around Mel’s shoulders, steering her over to the bar “I know you did angel, now stop pouting and pour us some of that bloody expensive champagne I just paid a small fortune for, will’ya?”

“Darling you read my mind. Three glasses coming right up.”

Sitting at the bar she helped design, a glass of bubbles worth a weeks rent in her hand, Mel wondered at the change her life had made, by ducking into a dingy looking bookshop in despair and distress.

Now she had a job, a great flat, friends who accepted her for who she was, and had acquired a pair of doting if rather eccentric uncles.

It was a bloody miracle, really.


	19. Christening the Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last the cottage is ready, and Aziraphale gets his first look. Crowley has a few surprises up his sleeve, but so does the angel. No flat surface will be safe.....smut ensues

** _March 5 months after GMT Aziraphale visits the cottage for the first time since they bought it_ **

The backseat of the Bentley rustled with a densely packed array of plants from Crowleys flat. It was the last batch to bring down to the cottage. Concentrating on his mental checklist of things both done and to be completed, he twitched in surprise at the angel’s warm hand on his thigh.

“Ngk”

“Sorry dearest, but you haven’t spoken a word in over half an hour.”

“S’lots to be done, thinking.”

The hand squeezed once before returning to the angels lap “Are you nervous?”

“Bless it angel, do you have to make it worse?”

“Oh Crowley I’m sure its quite marvellous, you’ve worked so very hard.”

“Well, paid a lot of other people to do it mostly” he flashed a grin at the angel “Might have a bit of a reputation in the village now.”

A prim snort from the passenger seat “Well, that was only a matter of time, obviously.”

They slowed and turned right into a driveway entrance tidily paved in ashphalt, entrance guarded by substantial brick walls with a sturdy looking wrought iron gate closed in front of them, until the demon clicked his fingers causing them to open.  
  
“We’re here, angel” he said softly as they motored slowly down the very smooth driveway, cutting to the left at the boundary coming in at the top of the property.

“I don’t remember it being like this?”

Crowley nodded “Yeah idea from the roading crew, took out a couple of trees, only had to do half as much driveway. Bonus, loads of wood for winter.” He didn’t mention the several large miracles it had taken to finesse the treestumps out of the ground and chop the wood conveniently over the weekend, much to the road crew’s surprise on the following Monday.

He pulled in next to the backdoor, nipped out and around to open the passenger door

“C’mon angel, let me show you around.”

He steered them round to the right, where the lawn was at least tidily mown, garden still winter dormant, but heavily pruned, weeded, mulched and prepared for spring. The outside of the cottage had been pressure washed, painted a cheerful light blue with white trim round the doorways and window frames.

The front now featured a generous deck opening out in front of the living area and their bedroom, with an adorable French style patio set just perfect for morning cups of tea. Expecting to go inside, Aziraphale was startled to head to the outbuildings instead.  
  
Crowley waved a careless hand “Got the plastic up on the polytunnel, still lots to do, but wanted to show you the garage” he twitched with nervous energy, intrigued the angel followed more willingly.

It had also been tidied up and painted, with the three doors rather confusingly painted with the following letters B for the left hand one, M for the middle one and A for the last one.

“BMA?”  
  
“B for Bentley. A for Aziraphale.”

“So M is for?”

With a click, the middle door opened to reveal a very shiny cream 3 Door Mini Cooper with a 4004BC numberplate.

“Surprise” Crowley sounded nervous and the angel turned to him.

“You bought me a vehicle?”

The demon shrugged “Its 20 min to the nearest village angel, I can’t always be around to drive you. So yeah, got you a car. Don’t worry, its an auto. Got full sat nav, all the bells and whistles.”

“Well” said Aziraphale with faint twinges of alarm “You will have to teach me to drive.”

“Nope” it was a very definitive statement, with absolutely no opportunity to be argued with.

“Why on earth not?”

Crowley shrugged “I don’t actually have a licence, and road rules are more guidelines really. But you need to learn everything properly. For both our sakes. Plus, much as I adore you angel, I cannot teach you to drive. Not again. Not after last time…..”

There was a pained silence that featured much wringing of angelic hands “Quite. Understood. I did apologise….”

Crowley waved him off “Don’t start, it took you a decade to stop last time. Come and look at your workshop.”

“Workshop?” angelic ears pricked up as the demon opened a door next to the Mini and led them into a spacious workshop. The bays in the garage were sized for farm equipment, so were a generous size.

Crowley had fitted the space out with work benches down one wall, including a wet bench in one corner. Soft natural light came in via frosted glass windows, the floor finished in tongue and groove, well insulated and featuring a heatpump for climate control.

There was plenty of room for a desk, and quite a lot of bookcases, and the smile on the angels face was radiant “Oh Crowley, its wonderful. So thoughtful of you dearest.”

_He wasn’t blushing, he wasn’t _“Should be enough room for your personal favourites, but we aren’t bloody carting the whole bookshop here.” Of course Aziraphale instantly started mentally cataloguing his books, trying to decide what he could possibly leave behind, zoning out entirely. Crowley resorted to a tried and true method of distracting him, and stuck his serpent tongue in one ear and wiggled it.

“Dratted demon.”

“C’mon angel, thinking about your books when you have a whole new house to explore?”

With a faint blush the angel nodded “Yes I do have a, whats your phrase for it?”

“One track mind…”

***********************************  
  
They walked in the back door, the mud room now converted to a modern version, with laundry appliances, and large handbasin, cupboards for storage, and hooks for outdoor clothing in the same blue and white tones as the exterior. It felt light and welcoming.

The kitchen was still the same, but underfoot glistened polished hardwood floors, glowing a rich amber in the sunlight. An elegant antique mahogany dining table with 6 chairs sat on a plush dark charcoal rug, a gorgeous leather Chesterfield sofa in a deep cranberry colour sat in front of the fire on another charcoal rug.   
  
A padded window seat loaded with pillows now graced the sunny corner and the far wall was filled floor to ceiling with built in wooden bookcases, partially filled with books Crowley had already bought down.

The rich cream walls and curtains were set off by a striking feature wall where the fireplace was, adorned with a large glossy black TV screen, speakers on either side of the fireplace, hooked up to a complex looking sound system the angel knew he would never be brave enough to touch.  
  
He drifted around the room, fingertips delicately caressing the glossy tabletop, appreciating the grain on the leather, testing out the cushions on the window seat briefly.

Crowley had leaned a hip against the island bench, and was fiddling anxiously with his sunglasses, but he knew better than to interrupt his angel, while he was ‘appreciating’. Eventually he made his way back to the sofa, sank down into the expensive leather with a sigh.

“Angel?”

“Come here darling” well that was hopeful, so the demon obliged and was pulled down into angelic lap for an enthusiastic series of kisses.

Mussed and breathless, the demon asked “So, you like it then?”

“Darling its perfect. Elegant, stylish, comfortable but still cosy. You managed to blend both our styles together brilliantly. Can I see the rest?”

“Course” he spilled himself onto the floor and then rearranged himself in a more or less vertical assemblage, leading the way to the spare rooms.

“Spare room for visitors, nothing fancy, just the usual” A queen sized bed adorned in an expensive looking quilted bedspread, cream walls with a lighter green feature wall, modern bedside cabinets with lamps and a built in wardrobe finished the room. It was comfortable if a little spartan.

“Needs some finishing touches, art and suchlike.”

Crowley smiled at him “Thought it would be nice if we did that together. Right here is your library.”

Bright white walls, wooden floors, an aircon unit (a proper filtered one) and as much wooden shelving as could be fitted into the room waited with empty shelves, waiting to be filled.”

“I had the window built over, gave more wallspace, no sunlight to damage the books.”

Aziraphale felt tears welling up, it was absolutely perfect “I don’t deserve you, or this, Crowley, its wonderful.”

“Remember that when you are bitching about not being able to fit all your favourites in. Last stop on this side” he lead them to the last door and opened with a flourish “Office space”

A sleek modern glass monstrosity of a desk cowered behind a tall black leather office chair. A huge computer screen mounted on one end was attached to a razor thin laptop. Glossy black filing cabinets sat on either side, with speakers mounted on top, attached to a smaller version of the sound system in the lounge. Papers were scattered over the desk, rolled up blueprints on the floor.  
  
The other half of the room was empty and Crowley gestured “Didn’t know if you wanted to bring your desk from the bookshop and put it here or in the workshop.” He shrugged “Or we can get you a new desk, whatever you want angel.”

“Actually my dear, what you should do is put your favourite sofa right there, so you have somewhere to nap” He turned to the surprised demon, planting a soft kiss on his cheek “You’ve given me two spaces here and left nothing for yourself, so this is *your* space now. If you have a sofa, then I can come join you, drink wine, chat. Just like the bookshop.”

A pair of long arms envelop him in a tight hug, Crowley pressing his face into the angels hair for a long moment “I haven’t told you that I love you today, have I?”

Aziraphale wrapped his own arms around his husband, walking him back a couple of steps to press him against the wall. One demonic eyebrow quirked as the angel pressed full body against him, and whispered against his mouth “You still haven’t, actually” and paused with their lips just touching.

With a slow appreciative smile the demon whispered fondly “Bastard” before dipping down into a slow tongue laden kiss that generated some appreciative moans and not even slightly subtle grinds of the angel’s hips.  
  
“Your monstrosity of a bed must be here somewhere Crowley?” he slid one solid thigh between the demons at an angle that was calculated to make him gasp and arch underneath him, revealing the delicious throat that he began kissing his way down hungrily.  
  
“Ngk! Fuck angel, perfectly good flat surface right here. Oh god, do that again.”

“This?” he rolled his hip and pressed in a particular way that elicited a deep throaty groan from the demon, who went bonelessly pliable underneath him, except for the hands that were busy untucking the angels shirt and tugging at his cashmere sweater.

Scraping his teeth lightly over one sharp collarbone he murmured “If I let go can you stand up?”

Crowley huffed a laugh “Course I bloody can’t. Your fault.”

“Carry you across the threshold then?”

The demon rolled his eyes “Why did I fall in love with a romantic old fool?”

“That wasn’t a no….”

“When have I ever said no to you?”

“Alright, arms around my neck, and upsidaisy. Mind your head my love”

Crowley muttered not quite under his breath “Can’t fuck you with a concussion”

He settled his leggy load comfortably and then carefully navigated down the hallway, across the lounge to the white frosted French doors that led to the Master bedroom which opened of their own accord, where he gently deposited his languid lover on the huge bed he had miracled over from his flat. 

Crowley refused to sleep on anything else, and the angel had to admit, it was sinfully comfortable. He turned, admiring the room, painted pale blue, white trim. The feature wall at the far end was dark midnight blue and had the constellations painted on it with pinpoint precision. Obviously Crowleys handiwork.  
  
Two large cream dressers sat on either side of the bed, and a couple of comfortable looking lounge chairs sat on either side of a coffee table, by the sliding doors, offering a sunny spot to view the orchard.

It was light, airy, cosy and comfortable and delightful. It just needed one finishing touch. He bent and pulled the bed out from the wall a bit.

“Whatcha doing angel?”

“Budge up into the middle of the bed dear, I have a surprise for you too.” The demon complied, curious but wary.

Aziraphale concentrated very hard, building the mental picture he needed in place, and with a click a solid wooden framework assembled itself around the bed.

Three inch wide smooth finished dark stained wooden beams made a box frame around the bed, with a cross over framing over the bed, topped with a peaked point that rose nearly to the height of the tall ceiling.  
  
It was bolted together, restraint and suspension loops solidly attached, headboard with round railings just the right size to grip on to, set wide apart but also well put together. Every side of each beam was carved in arcane sigils and glyphs, Crowleys eyes widened as he deciphered them, they offered protection and shelter against occult and ethereal and celestial interference. 

“You made a ….. Faraday cage!”

“I did, despite what She said, I don’t trust them not to try something, and we are vulnerable when we sleep. It should help with the nightmares a bit too. It needs one more step though, can you come here?”

“You mean it needs to be activated?” Crowley slid off the bed and took his husbands hand “What do you need angel?”

“Well Anathema had an idea that I would like to try, that we both use our power at the same time.”

“You mean, blend it somehow? So we get protection from Above and Below? Brilliant idea.”

“Reach out and touch it and just let a trickle through and see what happens.”

Hands still clasped together, they stepped forward, reaching fingertips for the nearest beam, and let the barest whisper of power leak into the wooden framework. Slowly the sigils began to glow, patches of blue intermixed with hot red, until it combined, and the whole thing glowed a brilliant neon purple.

Aziraphale muttered a complicated latin phrase, with a bright flash the power sank into the wood.

“There, that looks good, can you test it out dearest?”

Crowley called up a dart of his most demonic energy and flung it at the structure, which flashed purple as it absorbed the input. Aziraphale did the same with the same result.

Crowley kicked off his shoes, crawled on to the bed, sprawling across it “Looks like its missing the ropes, chains and electrodes….”

“ Well since you asked….” Aziraphale clicked his fingers, adorning each corner post with a long chain ending in a solid leather cuff. More chains wrapped themselves around the cross beams, and some red shibari rope appeared tidily wrapped, hanging from a hook in one corner.  
  
Slowly the angel undid his bow tie, took off his cashmere sweater, and rolled up his sleeves “Now, where were we…..oh yes, you have far too many clothes on, my darling.” With a yank on two bony ankles he dragged the demon down the bed until he could reach the buttons on the silky black shirt “Let me remedy that sad state of affairs for you.”

“Christ angel, you terrify me sometimes.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

The demon was abruptly naked, reaching up to pull his angel husband down for hot hungry kisses “I want you to fuck me very hard and then fuck me very gently.”

“As you wish”


	20. First Morning in the Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its been a three day weekend here so I got stuck into some writing, this is a short chapter to finish out the one from yesterday and explain the other reason for the bed.
> 
> Ive got some other commitments that I need to take care of over the next week, so the next update will probably be next weekend. Hopefully these two together will tide you over til then. Plus it gives me time to plot out the next sequence. Your patience is appreciated!
> 
> Updated to rewrite the end of this, I wasn't happy about their voices in that discussion. Im also planning out the next chapter.

** _ The next day_ **

Aziraphale rose early, the house was cold, so he dressed in a thick fluffy robe and slippers, quietly made his way into the living areas, closing the door so not to disturb his sleeping husband. It was a well deserved lie-in that the demon was getting.

Crumpling paper he filled the fire grate, laid a cross hatching of kindling with a couple of smaller logs on top, opting for the matches rather than the hellfire at his fingertips to light it. Settling in to make sure the fire took, he added a bit more kindling under one log and ventured into the kitchen.

The stove was a modern gas one which he managed to light with a bit of fiddling of one dial, pressing in to ignite and then turn to the lowest setting while he rummaged in the shiny cupboards for a kettle, a mug and hopefully some teabags at the very least.

A sleek modern kettle was unearthed, topped up with water and put on to heat. Mugs were found but the cupboards were entirely empty of food, much to the angels puzzlement. Ah….. the door to the right was the Pantry! An Aladdins Cave of delights, with several tins of his favourite loose teas, bags of Earl Grey, and his second best teapot from the shop made the angel smile fondly. _ I knew I hadn’t lost it._

He sat with a cup of tea and a packet of Jammy Dodgers on the luxurious Chesterfield, warming himself in front of the fire, now ready to receive some decent sized logs and burn well for the rest of the day. Upping the ambient temperature with an idle thought, he rose to slide open the heavy fabric curtains, stood leaning against the bookshelves, staring out into the orchard, lost in thought while he finished his tea and half the biscuits.

Time to explore the bathroom, Crowley had waxed lyrical about the shower, and the angel had learned to appreciate the benefits of hot water not just as a way to relax, but also to clear ones head. It wasn’t quite as complicated as the shower in the Mayfair flat, he had fun trying to figure out what each dial and knob did, eventually settling on a combination that he liked, luxuriating in the flow of hot water. He lathered generously with Crowleys signature sandalwood shower gel and noted he was due for another manicure soon.

Thick soft cotton towels sat in the open shelves next the shower, he noted the Harrods label at one end and smiled _only the very best for his luxury loving demon, he does like his comforts_. Dropping the damp towel in the basket by the door, he wandered naked through the now warm house, slipping quietly into the bedroom in search of clothes.

“Scandalise the neighbours angel” growled the demon huskily, still half asleep.

“A grown man walking naked in his own house? They’ll have to get used to it eventually” with that he threw open the curtains at the end of the room, letting morning light in.  
  
Crowley groaned and buried himself face down in the pillows “Too bloody early angel. Although…” he slithered across the bed and folded the sheet back invitingly “Come back to bed, make it worth my while to be awake this goddamned early….”

“Are you tempting me?”

“Depends, are you tempted?”

“Darling how could I ever resist such astonishing bed head?” Actually it looked extremely fetching, tumbling in loose waves across the crisp white pillows but the demon still tossed a spare pillow at him, with a muttered “Utter bastard.”

“Budge over dearest” Aziraphale put the pillow back where it belonged, sliding between the 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, pulling the demon in to rest against his shoulder.  
  
“Smell good.”

“Smell like you my dear.”

“S’what I said….”

“Shhh don’t spoil the moment.”

“Were we having one?”

“Of course darling, first morning in our cottage, it’s a very important moment to be properly appreciated.”

“I could do with being ‘properly appreciated’….”

Aziraphale snorted and pressed a kiss to the red hair “Really? Did I not do a good enough job last night. And this morning, now that I think about it?”

A petulant sigh “Are we snuggling then?” They both knew he adored snuggling but would vehemently deny it at every possible opportunity. Didn’t fit with his image, or something.

“We are darling” he bought one hand up to stroke through the long red hair, Crowley relaxed with a satisfied sigh.

“Tell me about this bloody monstrosity of a bed then?”

“You remember I told you about Sasha? She helped us with the Play Rooms at the Club?”

“Dominatrix, yeah.”

“Well I asked her to give me a tour of her premises, she had some rather interesting furniture and it gave me an idea.”

Crowley half sat up and squinted at the angel “You visited a Dungeon?”

“Hardly my first time, dearest. Surely you must have realised.” Aziraphale was genuinely surprised.

“Ngk. Hadn’t really thought about it, actually.” Which might have been true, but he certainly was entertaining a whole new slew of thoughts about it that he was putting aside for later….

“It was very educational. Things have changed a lot since the 1800s.” Aziraphale mused in a slightly reminiscent tone, a little too fondly for the demons peace of mind. Crowley whimpered. This was a conversation he was *not* caffeinated enough for, AT ALL!

“Does it bother you? The bed, that is?” Aziraphale asked carefully curious.

Oh, it was going to be one of _those_ talks. Crowley wriggled a little anxiously “S’bit intimidating.”

“Sit up a bit more darling, and look at me.” The demon did as he was asked, shimmying up in the bed, to lean on one arm, looking down at the angel.

“Tell me dearest, does it make you anxious? What the bed could be used for?” the angel spoke in his most gentle tone “It offers possibilities, nothing more.”

Watching Crowley bite at his lip, thinking, Aziraphale lay quietly, it was important that the demon processed in his own time. The angel knew that the line between dominance and torture was a fine line to cross for someone who *had* been tortured _he shuddered internally at the shared memories they would never forget._

Unconciously his husbands fingers nervously started fretting with the edge of the sheet until he caught himself and sighed “I’m overbloodythinking it.”

“Well we are just as bad as each other there, but in different ways. What helps, my love, when you get stuck inside your head like that?”

Crowley thought for a while “You do……. You take control, give me less choices, more boundaries.”

“How do I do that?”

“Wish I bloody knew, you read me like an open book angel, every time.”

Aziraphale reached up to tuck the long crimson tresses over one shoulder, cupping the bladesharp cheekbone in one hand “My darling, I only want for you to have what **you** want and need. Sometimes those are the same, sometimes not. This bed is a tool to help me provide that for you.”

He shrugged “When you have Eternity to experiment, it seemed sensible to make sure we had options available.”

Something dark flickered in the demons eyes “Experimentsssss?”

Angelic blue eyes twinkled at him “Nothing you don’t ask for. When you are ready, you will have to tell me. What you want, how you want it. Why you want it. Boundaries, Communication and Consent my love. For you and me.”

Eyes wide at the implications of that, Crowley breathed “Oh you utter bastard, I do love you.”

Aziraphale pulled him down for a slow kiss “I should bloody hope so, we *are* married!”

“Such a filthy mouth on you angel.”

“I’d rather have yours on me….”

“Done with the snuggling now?” voice muffled as the demon disappeared underneath the covers, very quickly rendering the angel incapable of coherent response.

_The morning was properly appreciated by both of them, in several different ways. Thank god the shower was easily big enough for two….._


	21. Surprise Houseguests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Ineffable Husbands come home from a London trip to find unexpected houseguests have arrived.....

** _2 years later, Early Summer_ **

** **

_Angel I need your help _Crowley spoke directly into the angels mind rarely, so it was important _In the tunnel house._

_What do you need my dear?_

_A wide box, some towels, two cereal bowls and chop up some of that steak we had put aside for dinner_

_Do we have houseguests we weren’t expecting?_

_Come find out._

Aziraphale found a box that seemed right, winced at taking the good towels from the bathroom, but it was all they had. Loading everything into the box, he hurried to the tunnel house, carefully swinging open the door.

“Down here angel” came Crowleys voice from the partition at the back, where he did his potting up.

Crowley was crouched in the doorway, blocking access, grabbed the box and laid it down off to the right and pointed to his left. 

In a pile of scattered gardening magazines lay a discarded black shirt, which squeaked frightened mewls from the two tiny kittens nestled in the middle. One black and white, the other grey and white.

“Oh” breathed the angel “They are so small”

“Only a few days old I think” said the demon as he put the bowls aside, reaching into his toolbox for a craft knife, cut a panel out of the end of the box, padded it with the towels. He looked back at the angel “I’m going to lift them up, can you slide the box in underneath?”

Kittens safely deposited in a much better nest, they tidied away the magazines, laid out the meat, put some water in the other bowl, and stood, staring at the tiny creatures.

“What do we do now?” asked the angel and Crowley shrugged.  
  
“Hope the mother comes back, keep putting food down for her” He cast an eye at the tunnel house, filled with tomatoes, lettuce and other vegetables “Hope she gets used to us being in here.”

“C’mon lets unload the car.” They had gone to London for a few days to stock up on fine wines and treats for the pantry. The tunnel house had been left on a watering timer, luckily providing a warm secure place for a mother cat to make a home for her kittens. 

The meat was gone the next morning, and the next. On the third day Crowley was greeted by a menacing warning growl a few steps from the doorway, so he left the bowls there. Curious he returned later in the day with more food, ignoring the warning growls to sit crosslegged in the doorway.

Crowley’s heart clenched at the sight of Mama cat, dangerously thin, coat and eyes dull, she growled and hissed protectively, curled around the wriggling kittens. The seeping wound on one foreleg appeared to be the reason for her sorry state, obviously limiting her ability to hunt and probably the reason she had chanced human habitation to have her kittens. 

Murmuring quiet soothing nonsense, he held a hand towards her, fingers spread, closing his eyes to let his senses assess the damage. A nasty bite, probably from a rat, leaving an infection that the stress of the kittens had left her less able to fend off. He let a trickle of power seep into Mama cat, healing her wound, and a few other old hurts, also boosting the immune system of all the felines present.

With a thought he raided the nearest supermarket of one of every type of catfood they had, leaving a couple of hundred pounds tucked into a till as payment. He poured a pile of kibble onto the grass next to the box, finding a pouch of wet fish goop, pouring some into the bowl next to the chopped steak.

Feeding her small and often would solve the nutrition issue, and hopefully help build a bond of trust between then.

“There you go Mama, gonna take good care of you and your babies.” Warily she rose carefully, cautious but drawn by the pungent smell. She was a pretty thing, long silky fur, patches of white and black with bright suspicious green eyes, that she kept fixed on him, while quickly lapping at the food.

Keeping up a constant stream of nonsense talk, just to let her hear him, he assessed the kittens, two boys, maybe a week old. Hopefully the improvement in the mother would perk them up a bit, though he suspected they were still at the squirmy helpless stage for a bit longer.

He waited while she bathed her whiskers neatly, before jumping back into the nest, curling around the kittens, who squeaked as she began to gently groom them. Hesitantly, the sound of a purr stuttered for a bit around the licking, until she settled back, like the queen she was, closing green eyes in dismissal.  
  
Smiling softly, Crowley genuflected with his right hand “As you command, milady”, unfolding easily from the ground, to walk silently on bare feet back to the house.  
  
**********************************  
  
Within a week Eve, as they named her, greeted him with meows of welcome, both she and the kittens doing much better. They were beginning to awkwardly clamber about their new home, eyes barely opened. He was allowed to carefully handle them, each kitten thoroughly checked over by their anxious mother on safe return to the box.

Slowly he resumed work in the tunnel house, weeding the beds, picking tomatoes, keeping the family company, talking idly about random stuff, habituating the cats to his presence. On a particularly warm afternoon, lulled by the humid warmth of the tunnel house, he stretched out on the grass walkway, head pillowed on a spare towel, indulging in a truly luxurious nap.

Crowley slept hard and well, always taking a long time to fully waken, resisting it at every moment usually. However the feeling of having his face sandpapered off woke him with remarkable clarity quite quickly, blearily he stared into a pair of expectant green eyes.

“Did I miss madame’s dinnertime?”

Eve blinked, leaning forward for another lick and he fended her off with a careful hand, which she rubbed a cheek into instead. Graciously she allowed gentle cheek scritches and he ran a hand lightly down her back, feeling the too prominent spine under the silky fur. Eve was definitely filling out, eyes bright, coat looking better and the kittens were growing fast.

He sat up slowly, not to startle her, but she seemed comfortable with human presence. They guessed she had been someones pet, possibly a run away or abandoned. With a rusty mew, she walked in the direction of the kittens (and the food), stopping to look back at him and meow more demandingly.

“Feed me Seymour” he murmured under his breath, and emptied another pouch of wet food into a dish for her, and a smaller portion that he mashed up with a fork for the kittens. He put up the divider to keep the kittens in the nursery and wandered back to the house. Time to prepare his dinner!

“You smell like fish” Aziraphale wrinkled his nose, offended at the pungent odour.

Crowley shrugged “Its her favourite flavour” but he took the hint, heading to the bathroom for a shower and change of clothes. He had worked up a sweat in the garden in the heat, and the cool water was refreshing.

Wandering out, dressed in a ratty tshirt and some worn but comfy joggers, he wrapped the towel turban like around his wet hair, rummaging in the fridge for dinner ingredients.

“Thai?” he asked his husband.

A pair of warm hands encircled his waist, the familiar solid body pressing up against his back, lips pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, he closed his eyes with a hum, nestling into the embrace.

“Mmmm s’nice angel but I’m starving.”

“Oh yes, I imagine that three hour nap tired you right out” replied his angel pertly, releasing him with one last lingering kiss.

“Got woken up by Eve”

“How is our little family doing?”. Aziraphale came to visit and coo over the kittens but stayed away to reduce the stress on the unwell mother.

“Kittens starting to wander a bit” his tone was worried as he chopped vegetables neatly, stirring them into the wok to stirfry.

Aziraphale set a glass of pinot gris on the counter for the demon, pulling up a barstool to sit and watch. Much as his husband enjoyed watching him eat, the angel had discovered the delights of watching food being prepared by loving hands. It was a comfortable routine now, even if it meant he was stuck with doing the dishes.

“Should we bring them inside? Perhaps the laundry?”

Crowley gave the now bubbling fragrant curry a stir, turning down the gas and letting it simmer, while checking on the rice. Satisfied everything was under control, he leaned against the counter, idly sipping his wine.

“You’ll get attached angel….” Aziraphale smiled a tiny smile of satisfaction, looking up at his handsome husband through long blond lashes in a way he knew melted the demons resistance. Crowley growled, knowing he was being manipulated, but helpless in the face of overwhelming angelic cuteness.  
  
“Fine, but YOU clean the litterboxes!”

Knowing that the soft hearted demon was already fully invested, the angel smiled again, murmuring “Of course, my darling” knowing he would never have to.

*****************************************************  
**_8 months later around 2am_**

A sound like the thundering of a herd of wild horses hammers its way through the house, once twice and on the third time Aziraphale gets up and shuts the door to the lounge. They had learned the hard way that midnight play time usually ended up with two kittens bouncing their way across the bed and Crowley did *not* enjoy being startled awake by several kilos of energetic cat landing on various parts of his anatomy.

He lightly stroked Eve curled at the foot of the bed, safely tucked away from the demons languidly strewn limbs, a sleepy purr greeting the caress. Shivering a bit at the nip in the air, he slid back into the warmth of the bed, tucking himself into the sliver of space in between his sleeping husband and their cat.  
  
The muted thunder of playing kittens lulled him back into sleep.

****************************************************  
“Jasper get OFF the bloody bench!” A pair of bright orange eyes that inspired the cats name glittered with evil cat amusement, as the black and white cat casually licked a paw, ignoring the demon with the comfort of a truly pampered pet.

“Don’t feed him dearest, it only encourages him” said the main culprit of sneaky cat treats from his place on the sofa, pinned down by the substantial weight of grey and white Tybalt in his lap.

Muttering demonic imprecations he picked the cat up off the counter, slinging him over one shoulder, reaching up to run a hand firmly over the soft fur the way Jasper liked. Crowley winced as sharp claws pricked his skin as Jasper kneaded in feline satisfaction, snuggles was what he wanted, and snuggles he had achieved.

“C’mon ratbag, got chickens to feed” Crowley stomped into his gumboots and sashayed outside, cat still hanging over his shoulder.

Aziraphale smiled down at the warm snoozing cat in his lap, Jasper was energetic and curious, delighted in keeping Crowley company in the garden, lazing in sunny spots in the garden. Tybalt much preferred sleeping in the most comfortable spot he could find, the angels lap where possible, but always nearby. He had a permanent spot on the corner of the angels desk in the Workshop, and all four of them battled for space even in the huge bed, although Jasper on slept there in the colder months.

Despite Crowley insisting that cats and snakes didn’t get on, the cats had become an intrinsic part of their cottage life. Eve had gone on to live with Anathema, because, as Crowley put it “every witch needs a cat” but it was Newt who was her devoted minion.

_All the cats lived far beyond their expected lifespan, but eventually their time came. Jasper came to rest under his favourite sunbathing spot in the garden, and Tybalt’s ashes graced a priceless Egyptian burial urn and took pride of place on the corner of the angels desk, where he had spent so many years keeping Aziraphale company._   
  
_Eve produced another litter of kittens, and Anathema kept one to carry on the line. All her descendants lived very long healthy lives. It became a Device family tradition to keep any patched long haired black and white female kitten, and more often than not, she was named Eve._


End file.
